


On The Edge

by saddle_tramp



Series: The World Belongs To Me [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Depression, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Language, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddle_tramp/pseuds/saddle_tramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fandom:  Marvel Movies Universe AU<br/>Spoilers:  Spoilers for the Marvel movie ‘verse up to and including the beginning of <i>Avengers</i>, and the 2012 Marvel comic <i>Battle Scars</i>.</p><p>Word count: approx 33,000 words</p><p>Warnings: Mentions of past torture, depression, discussion of suicidal feelings, and minor D/s behaviors.<br/>Other Pairings: Past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, past Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, mentions of unrequited Tony Stark/Clint Barton and Tony Stark/Phil Coulson.</p><p>Minor Characters: Original Agents, mentions of Colonel Rhodey Rhodes, Agent Sitwell, Ho Yinsen, and Obadiah Stane not necessarily in that order.</p><p>Summary: Fury sent Phil (and Clint, who Phil refused to leave behind while he was on medical leave) to California hoping to get better control of Tony Stark, but even before they left Phil could have told Fury that it wasn’t his best idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This verse goes AU just after _Thor_ , but from the end of this part onward this ‘verse WILL include Avengers movie canon in a slightly altered form. This fic is everything leading up to that one and includes information from the Avengers movie.
> 
> This is a direct sequel to my other Avengers movie ‘verse fic, _Trouble_ , beginning about two weeks later. Read that first. :-D
> 
> Title from the AC/DC song _Ride On_ , which is definitely Tony's theme in my head because it fits him to a tee.
> 
> ... And there might possibly be abuse of parentheses in a few places because the Clint and Tony in my head both go off on tangents and supply bits of info that are too important to the story to toss. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything I borrowed here is property of Marvel and so not mine, I'm just borrowing their characters to let them have some fun. Anyone you don't recognize might be mine, but then again they might just be so obscure no one but me ever noticed them. I'm not making any money or fame off of them anyway, so no harm no foul, forever and ever, Amen. 
> 
> No copyright infringement is intended, and none of this ever happened. Dangit.

 

Clint woke long before dawn, smiling as he soaked in the feeling of having Phil holding him, but the smile began to fade within a minute or two as he realized just how wide-awake he felt. He sighed soundlessly, looking at the blue glow of the small clock by the bed and disappointed to see it was only a little after three. There was no way in hell he’d be able to manage staying still enough not to wake Phil for three hours, not when he already had the beginnings of that twitchy feeling he got when he just needed to move.

Clint hadn’t managed more than a few hours of sleep at a time in years, and even sleeping in Phil’s arms hadn’t been capable of changing that completely. Clint enjoyed watching Phil sleep, but he couldn’t always manage to stay still while he did it, and Phil always woke up if Clint moved around too much in bed. Clint had been sleeping around four hours at a time with Phil when he was lucky, mostly because of the awesome sex before they finally fell asleep, he was sure, but Phil needed to sleep at least _five_ hours to wake up without a headache and did best on eight if he could get it.

In the apartment in Brooklyn that Clint wasn’t quite able to think of as _theirs_ yet, Clint hadn’t had much trouble sleeping as long as Phil did, but Clint figured that had been mostly because it was their first weekend together and they were too busy having sex for Phil to want to sleep very much either. Clint figured Phil had slept about ten hours over the whole three days, he had slept even less, but they had both been too absorbed in each other to fight the urge to kiss and touch and fuck as often as humanly possible. Clint thought Phil had woken up with a headache the day they left New York, but Phil had said he was fine and then distracted Clint so thoroughly with sex that he wasn’t completely sure.

Clint had gotten used to how attentive Phil could be when they were alone with surprising ease, but after their shower that first Monday morning Phil had gone back to their work relationship so suddenly that it made Clint’s head spin. Clint hadn’t said anything about Phil calling him Barton, and he hadn’t argued about wearing his best suit with one of Phil’s favorite ties, careful to be on his best behavior without giving away the fact he was kind of worried. Phil had been very much his calm, bland Agent Coulson persona by the time Clint followed him into the exclusive club where Pepper was waiting for them in a tiny private dining room, and Clint had done his best to fade into the woodwork as he watched Phil and Pepper talk and sip at glasses of extremely expensive wine that Clint privately thought tasted worse than the cheap stuff in a box that Natasha liked.

Clint had followed Phil onto Pepper’s private jet and then spent the flight to California pretending not to watch Phil and Pepper talk at the other end of the cabin. By the time they crossed into California, Clint had convinced himself that Phil would be firmly in work mode the whole time they were there, but that hadn’t happened. Phil had a job to do, of course, but that job was mostly to keep Tony out of trouble, and Tony had been spending all his time locked in a very secure lab, which gave Phil a lot more free time than Clint had expected him to have. Clint had been happy to take advantage of Phil’s lack of work, though, and he and Phil had been enjoying what felt like a vacation, lazing around Tony’s mansion or hiding in their room to fuck like bunnies whenever they felt the urge, which was often. Phil had actually teased Clint late one night that he must have some obscure mutant power to make Phil feel like he was eighteen again just by kissing him, but Clint figured Phil had just forgotten how awesome sex was, what with the whole hadn’t-slept-with-anyone-in-eight-years thing.

(For a moment after Phil had admitted that Clint had actually thought Phil was lying, but then he had remembered it was _Phil_ , who always told him the truth even when it hurt. Phil couldn’t be lying to him, he was just devoted to his job in a way that Clint found disturbing and frankly very sad, considering how amazing Phil was in bed. And on a couch, and the bathroom counter, and in the shower, and on Clint’s new Harley, and really anywhere Phil was sure of their privacy.)

It had all boiled down to the fact Clint and Phil had been enjoying 'naked funtimes' (Clint still got a kick out of how Phil had to fight not to laugh every time he said that.) more often than Clint had ever had sex with anyone in his life, even Natasha, but they still had to find time to sleep. Well, mostly _Phil_ had to sleep, but Clint refused to be the cause of Phil waking up with a migraine, especially not when Phil might have to deal with Stark at any time. Phil had said more than once that he loved holding Clint while they slept, and Clint enjoyed Phil touching him a lot more than he wanted to think about whether he was asleep or not, so he was trying very hard to learn to sleep more.

After two weeks Clint was starting to feel like he was making a little progress, and he had actually slept for five hours a couple of times, but most nights he had remained awake after Phil fell asleep and then woke up long before dawn. He didn’t want to keep Phil awake, which always seemed to happen if he tried to stay in bed, so he had been slipping out of bed to sit in the surprisingly-comfortable chair nearby, watching Phil sleep. The urge to watch Phil sleep had made Clint feel kind of like a creep at first, but he loved looking at Phil enough that he had slowly accepted the fact he could spend hours watching him and never really tire of it. No one could get past JARVIS without being detected by the fancy new sensor array Tony had recently given him, and Phil was a fairly sound sleeper when he felt safe, so Clint’s early morning staring hadn’t woken Phil yet.

Sometimes, though, especially when he hadn’t been on a mission in a while, Clint woke with the need to move humming through his body to the point that the idea of holding still for even five more minutes made him want to scream. It hadn’t happened since he and Phil had hooked up, but that morning it was there, steadily building under his skin in a way that made him want to leap out of bed and take a ten mile run or practice with his bow until his arms were too tired to lift.

Clint fought to stay still for as long as he could stand to before finally admitted defeat. He slowly and carefully began to work free of Phil’s arms, grabbing his own pillow to push against Phil’s chest and smiling when Phil’s arms closed around it as Phil hid his face against it, snuffling softly before he relaxed into sleep again. Phil preferred holding Clint now that he could, but Clint had discovered the first time he left the bed that Phil would end up hugging a pillow if Clint wasn’t within reach as he slept. Phil could sleep with any of the pillows, but he seemed to sleep better and longer with Clint’s pillow in his arms, so Clint had begun making sure Phil had it before he even left the bed. He hadn’t said anything to Phil about it, but he kind of thought it was his scent that helped Phil feel safe enough to ignore the movement in bed with him and stay asleep, which made Clint feel like a million bucks.

Clint sat there on the edge of the bed and watched Phil sleep for a few minutes before the urge to move started to build again, making him bend to grab his crutches out of the floor and then carefully lever himself up. He made his way soundlessly to where his boxers had ended up by the door to their room the night before, bending to pick them up and then stepping into them and tugging them up. He looked around for his t-shirt but he didn’t see it anywhere and after a moment he shrugged, turning back to the door to the room and then carefully slipping out into the hall, closing the door gently behind him.

Clint had to move very carefully on his crutches to avoid making noise on the wood floors of the hall, but he managed it as he made his way to a gleaming black futuristic-looking box mounted on the wall at eye-level near the end of the hall. He stopped there, leaning against the wall next to it as he murmured, “JARVIS, you awake?”

A circle of light appeared under the surface of the black box, producing a soft blue glow as JARVIS replied quietly, “Always, sir.” The sound was coming from the box in front of Clint even though JARVIS’ voice normally seemed to come from everywhere, and Clint knew it was because JARVIS didn’t want to wake anyone else. Pepper and Natasha were sleeping in the second room down the hall, and Phil was in the room beyond that. “May I help you?”

Clint smiled slightly at JARVIS not calling him ‘Agent Barton’, which was something they had argued about repeatedly before JARVIS finally gave in. Clint and JARVIS had gotten along wonderfully since then, and Clint was hoping that one of these days he’d be able to get JARVIS to relax enough to use his name more often. Phil had said enough that Clint was sure he’d be working with Tony and JARVIS for the foreseeable future, so Clint wanted to stay on their good side. Pepper had said in passing once that JARVIS could access and control anything Tony had ever made, and Clint had a feeling there was a lot of tech that Tony hadn’t ever sold to the public. JARVIS might just be a very smart computer like Pepper said, but Clint had talked to him at length a few times and had a feeling that Pepper might not really know just how lifelike JARVIS was. Clint had known a lot of people who were less _human_ than JARVIS, who had a finely-tuned sense of humor and a tendency towards sarcasm that Clint got a kick out of.

Clint leaned even closer to the ‘intercom’ that he was pretty sure was really just a housing containing some of JARVIS’ more obvious sensors, still smiling as he murmured, “Yeah, could you let me know if Phil wakes up? He needs to sleep until six if he will.”

“I would be glad to, sir,” JARVIS said softly, sounding amused. “Shall I alert you at six, if you haven’t returned to your room before then?”

“Yeah, please,” Clint said, smiling wider. “Only let me know ten minutes early. I want time to get back in there before the alarm.”

“I will see to it, sir,” JARIVS said quietly. “His heart rate and breathing at this time suggest that he is deeply asleep, but I will monitor him closely to keep you apprised of any changes.”

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Clint murmured, pushing away from the wall to head towards the living room.

“You’re quite welcome, sir.”

JARVIS fell silent again and Clint continued on his way, not letting himself even consider the temptation to put the crutches in some corner and wander around without them. Phil wasn’t awake to catch him, but Clint had promised to use the crutches until JARVIS cleared him as fully healed, and he intended to keep his word even though he hadn’t had even a twinge of pain in his foot in days. Phil had relaxed quite a bit since they left New York and seemed to be happy working with JARVIS, Pepper, and Natasha to keep an eye on Tony, and Clint liked it too much to break the promise that had made Phil feel safe in trusting Clint out of his sight.

When Clint reached the living room he stopped, surprised to see a light on down the hallway that led to the kitchen, and without really even thinking he whispered, “JARVIS, who’s in the kitchen?”

“That would be Master Stark, sir,” JARVIS replied quietly, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “I have somehow managed to persuade him to shower and have something to eat a bit more substantial than a granola bar, though as yet he is still resisting the idea of sleeping in an actual bed.”

“Good job, buddy,” Clint murmured with a chuckle, forgetting about his intention to play Tony’s very souped-up X-Box. “Pepper’s been trying to pry him out of his lair for days.”

Tony had been holed up in his lab working on a new set of armor, and Clint had only seen him in passing twice when Pepper managed to drag Tony out long enough to clean up and go to important meetings he couldn’t possibly miss. Clint still hadn’t really talked to him, not beyond waving or saying hi when Pepper told Tony (again) who he was, so he was curious as a cat about what Tony was like. Sure, he had seen footage of Tony with reporters shoving cameras in his face or when he was fighting for his life, but that didn’t tell him anything but the fact Tony was a master of hiding behind a mask and winning impossible battles, both of which were pretty impressive traits to Clint.

“Thank you, sir. I was quite pleased,” JARVIS agreed, sounding so smug it made Clint wonder again how Tony had taught a computer to show emotions. Talking to JARVIS was like talking to a human being, complete with sarcasm and snippy moods if you annoyed him, which was a huge improvement over computer terminals and keyboards in Clint’s opinion. He wouldn’t hate deskwork so much if the computers at SHIELD headquarters would talk back to him when he muttered at them.

“You should be,” Clint said, grinning. He turned to head for the kitchen, making sure to make a bit more noise with his crutches so he wouldn’t startle Tony too badly. He didn’t know the guy yet, but he was sure that anyone who had been through all the shit Tony had wouldn’t like being sneaked up on at three in the morning in his own kitchen.

Clint could hear Tony singing quietly as he got closer to the kitchen, but when he reached the kitchen doorway he was still so surprised that he stopped. Tony was wearing only a pair of red silk boxers, a frilly white apron, and a pair of wireless DJ-style earphones that were turned up so loud Clint could hear the music from across the room, his arc reactor shining brightly in his chest. He had old and new bruises scattered over his arms, side, and one shoulder, a burn on his forearm, and a cut on his shoulder that Clint could see, and it wouldn’t surprise him if there were a lot more he couldn’t see. Natasha had mentioned in several reports that Tony had a tendency to hurt himself often while he worked, and that it got much worse when he was in one of his manic inventor modes.

Tony had a spatula in one hand as he watched a pan of bacon sizzle on the stove, moving with the music and quietly singing along with a sad, resigned look on his face. “ _—And even though I tried, it all fell apart. What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter. I had to fall, to lose it all, but in the end, it —“_

Tony took the skillet of bacon off the stove then and turned with it to reach for a stainless-steel dispenser full of paper towels, his brown eyes widening as he abruptly stopped singing. “Oh!  Uh, hi!” He reached for the earphones he was wearing with the hand that still held the spatula, dripping bacon grease everywhere as he tossed the earphones on the table and said, “Kill the tunes, JARVIS.” The music Clint could just barely hear stopped immediately while Tony pasted on a smile for Clint and said cheerfully, “Martin, isn’t it? Uh… Flint? Maybe?”

Clint snickered even though he was wondering if Tony had anyone to talk to besides JARVIS. The look on Tony’s face before he knew Clint was there left Clint very sure the guy was hurting, and not just from the minor injuries scattered over his pale skin. “It’s Clint Barton, but you were pretty close.” He shifted slightly on his crutches, putting his injured foot on the floor while he watched Tony pull half a dozen paper towels from the dispenser and carry them to the table. “Pepper said I should expect to see you wandering around in the middle of the night eventually.”

Tony let out a little snort of a laugh, putting the paper towels on the table and then using the spatula to deftly flip four slices of bacon out of the skillet onto the paper towels without bothering to find a plate. “Always listen to that woman. Even when she’s wrong she ends up right, and what she doesn’t know, she can find out almost as fast as JARVIS.” He moved back towards the stove with the skillet and the spatula, asking, “You want some bacon? It’s about all I know how to cook besides a steak, but there’s never a bad time for bacon, right?”

Clint grinned, moving further into the kitchen. “Amen to that. I can make my own, though. Eat yours while it’s hot.”

“Nope! Sit, I got it. I’m just having a sandwich, it’ll be fine,” Tony said dismissively, putting the pan on the stove to heat up again and dropping the spatula onto a spoon rest next to it before he walked quickly to the fridge. “BLTs minus the L are the food of the gods, whether the bacon is hot or not.” He took a bulky package wrapped in butcher paper out of the fridge and then moved back to the stove, glancing over his shoulder at Clint with a smile. “Besides, Coulson would probably kill me if I didn’t at least _try_ to make you get off that foot. He hasn’t _said_ that, but Pepper thinks you two are cuter than fluffy little kittens together, and JARVIS says you’re inseparable when Coulson’s not worrying over me, so it kinda follows he’s protective as hell.” Clint laughed slightly, feeling his face heat up as Tony glanced at him and then changed the subject. “How do you like your bacon? ‘Cause Pep, she likes her bacon floppy and chewy, but I’m a crispy-crunchy guy.”

“Crispy, definitely,” Clint replied with a wry smile, moving to the table to have a seat. “And I keep telling Phil my foot doesn’t even hurt anymore, but he made me promise to stay off it anyway until actual x-rays say it’s healed.”

“I know how that is,” Tony said with a laugh. “Pepper’s always on me about some bump or bruise I already forgot about.” He unrolled the paper and then started peeling slices off of the pile of bacon inside, laying them out in the pan with precise movements. “Drives me batshit, but hey, at least she doesn’t hate me yet.”

“Tasha says Pepper loves you like Tasha loves me,” Clint said helpfully, letting the comment about Tony’s injuries slide even though he figured Tony could definitely stand to be more careful. Tony hadn’t left his lab in days, but he still had several nasty bruises, the burn, and a cut on his other side that Clint was sure were all no more than a day old, if that. “Tasha’s killed for me more than once, so...” He paused, considering, and then admitted, “Tasha likes to kick my ass though, and kicked me out of her bed for falling in love months before I even knew I had, so I guess you gotta take it with a grain of salt.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tony said with a snort. “I feel so much better.”

Clint snickered. “Yeah, it sounded better in my head, man.”

”I hope so,” Tony said, turning to walk towards the fridge as he rewrapped the rest of the bacon. He looked amused and kind of wry as he added, “Pepper did pretty much the same thing to me, but from what I gather, you fell for Coulson, not Romanov, so it was a little different.”

“I always loved Tasha,” Clint said, smiling crookedly. “Always will. She’s my best girl.”

“Yeah, but you’re still sleeping with Coulson,” Tony pointed out, moving to the sink to wash his hands quickly. “ _My_ girl is sleeping with yours and more often than not I end up in my lab, alone with my supercomputer and a robot who’s too stupid to come in out of the rain but likes to cuddle anyway.”

Clint grinned. “I hear robots are only as smart as their programmers.”

“Hey!” Tony said, laughing as he turned away from the sink and grabbed a paper towel for his hands. “I am _super smart_ , asshole. I graduated from MIT when you were still in elementary school.”

“Not hardly,” Clint said, snickering. “Never set foot in a school after my parents died when I was nine, and you’re not _that_ much older than me.”

Tony blinked and then just stared at Clint a moment before he suddenly moved towards the stove. “Please tell me you’re not one of those meatheads that thinks reading is for losers.”

“Nah, that was my brother,” Clint replied, amused. “I read and I studied some with a couple of other kids that were in the circus we ran off with after we got thrown in an orphanage, but he wouldn’t do it. He was kind of an asshole and pretty messed up, but he was my brother and I didn’t know family wasn’t supposed to be like that back then. I stuck with him until he went out and committed cop-assisted suicide when I was seventeen. I decided I needed a change after that so I got a GED and joined the Army.”

“Fake ID?” Tony asked.

“Yep, a buddy with the circus knew a guy that got me a birth certificate and a driver’s license,” Clint said, watching Tony flip the bacon with a skill that made it plain he did it often. “I had an archery gig in the circus and in basic I found out I was just as good with guns, so I ended up in Ranger school.”

Tony turned to look at Clint again, still holding the spatula. “So you’re a circus performer that went Ranger and then got picked up by SHIELD.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Clint agreed. “They called me Hawkeye in the Rangers, and it kinda stuck when I moved on to SHIELD.”

“You really any good?” Tony asked, looking curious.

“Never met anyone better,” Clint said with a shrug. “Rumor has it I’m the world’s best with a bow, but I haven’t shot against everyone yet so I dunno.” He paused slightly and then admitted, “I know I can beat most of the Olympic-level archery teams. Phil got me in to practice with them one time while we were working a protection detail for a politician’s kid that was competing.”

“And Coulson and Romanov both think you’re the best in the world?”

Clint smiled. “Phil’s said as much to some pretty important people, including the President, and Tasha says I’m even better than he thinks I am.”

Tony laughed. “And Fury?”

“He _says_ he’s better than me with a rifle, but he won’t prove it,” Clint said, smirking. “Me, I think he’s blowing smoke. Phil says I could beat him with my eyes closed.”

“And Coulson wouldn’t lie to _you_ , I guess,” Tony said, smiling wryly.

“Or to you, unless he was doing it for your own good,” Clint pointed out. “You can trust him, Tony. He’s here to help you, not make your life miserable. We both are. We’ve got your back.”

“So I’ve been told,” Tony agreed, turning back to the bacon to take the skillet off the stove and then carry it to the table. “Pepper likes Coulson a lot so I’m giving him a chance, but it’s not easy trusting someone who threatened to taze me and then watch ‘ _Supernanny’_ while I drool.”

“I got that threat a few times. He never did do it to me, but I was there when he _did_ taze a couple of federal agents that pissed him off with their complete inability to follow his orders.” Clint snickered at the memory, wondering if the CIA guys still had jobs. Phil had called their boss to get them out of his way, and the guy had fallen all over himself apologizing to ‘Assistant Director Coulson’ for the hassle. “And he loves that show. I think he just gets a kick out of Jo, but Phil says he watches her for ideas on how to handle the rookie agents Fury makes him evaluate every hiring cycle.”

Tony laughed. “They’re _that_ bad?”

“Some of ‘em,” Clint said, grinning at Tony as he reached out to steal a bite of bacon. “You got the cream of the crop here backing you up though, so you’re good.”

Tony looked skeptical, moving to put the pan of bacon grease on the stove on a cold burner. “Really?”

Clint nodded. “Oh yeah. Phil’s the big bad that the department heads at SHIELD all run from and threaten their underlings with, and Tasha is the most dangerous woman in the _world_. Me, I just go where Phil says and shoot whatever he tells me to, but I’m the best SHIELD has at putting a bullet or an arrow where it’ll do the most good.”

Tony moved to the fridge. “Somehow I doubt that’s all you do.” He pulled a jar of Blue Plate mayo out of the fridge and then started rummaging in the over-large veggie drawer. “You wouldn’t be the right hand man of the Assistant Director of SHIELD if you were just a modern-day William Tell.”

Clint laughed. “Okay, see, no. I’m a sniper and damn good at it, and I can totally do the bodyguard thing when I need to, but I haven’t got any rank at all within SHIELD and that’s how I like it.” Tony looked up at him in surprise and Clint added, “Agent Hill’s pretty good at what she does if you’re careful not to get on her bad side, and some of the infirmary staff is trustworthy enough to let them keep you alive, but I don’t work for Fury _or_ the Assistant Director of anything. I work for _Phil_. Him I can trust to have my back and tell me exactly what’s going on before he sends me into a situation I might not come back from.”

Tony looked at him for a moment longer and then slowly smiled. “Smart man.” He turned back to the fridge, asking, “You want lettuce?”

“Yeah, why not,” Clint agreed, letting him change the subject.

“You care what kind?”

Clint blinked. “Uh… The green kind? When Phil orders me a salad somewhere I never ask what’s in it, I just eat the stuff ‘cause it makes him feel better about me eating real food.”

Tony laughed. “Romaine it is. It’s green, and it’s what I like on a sandwich.” He grabbed a narrow head of lettuce and a huge purple-brown tomato to carry them to the table, putting them by the bacon before he went after a spoon and then opened a cabinet that turned out to be a breadbox with three shelves full of small packages of bread. “Okay! So, there’s sliced twelve-grain wheat, regular whole grain wheat, only a few slices of rye JARVIS, we need more, Romanov likes that. Uh… There’s the sourdough, and some organic oat bread that tastes like cardboard, the black bread Pepper likes, half a loaf of Italian, a few ciabatta buns, a potato roll, half a focaccia, an English muffin, uhm…” He moved a few things around and then added, “A few slices of pumpernickel, some brioche, and a few cinnamon-raisin bagels ‘cause Pepper loves them toasted and covered with cream cheese frosting.” He looked at Clint expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Clint smiled wryly. “Phil can be picky about bread, but me, I just want a plain old sandwich.”

Tony snickered and glanced back into the box, grabbing a partial loaf. “Closest to plain bread we’ve got is the Italian.” He grabbed another package and then closed the cabinet, carrying both kinds of bread to the table as he added, “And I want the sourdough, it’s great with the bacon and tomatoes, but it’s an acquired taste. Rhodey hates the stuff.”

Clint watched as Tony put one package of bread down and then began opening the other one, amused. “I’m kinda surprised you even want a sandwich. Tasha said you live on funky green drinks that smell like a lawnmower threw up in a chemical factory.”

Tony laughed, laying out two slices of bread. “I did for a few months.” He looked at Clint. “One sandwich, or two?”

“Two,” Clint replied. “It’s _bacon_.”

Tony grinned and laid out two more slices of Italian bread, pushing the mayo and the spoon towards Clint as an obvious hint. Clint got started putting mayo on his bread while Tony reached for the sourdough and went on talking. “I’m sure you know all about the whole arc reactor trying to kill me thing, right?”

Clint nodded, looking up. “Palladium poisoning. Hell of a way to go.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. It’s nasty stuff, but it’s a little-known fact that you can fight it off for a while with these really _vile_ concoctions of herbs and chemicals. Stuff tasted like fermented grass clippings with pine needles, lighter fluid, and habanero peppers blended into it, but it kept me alive so I did what I had to do.” He shrugged one shoulder, reaching for the mayo spoon as soon as Clint finished with it. “It was almost all I drank for a while until I figured out how to make a different kind of fuel core for the arc reactor.”

“Vibranium,” Clint said, watching Tony slather mayo on his sourdough bread.

Tony stopped and stared at Clint, looking kind of annoyed. “How the hell did you find out about vibranium?”

Clint let out a little huff of a laugh. “You were talking to yourself for _days_ while you tried to get it right, and Phil was stuck playing guard dog the whole time. We spent eight hours in a car right after he left you and he told me the whole story.” He smirked at Tony, adding, “He really _did_ want to taze you a few times, but it was mostly just so he could talk JARVIS into shutting off your tunes. You were driving him batshit with the twenty-four/seven heavy metal concert. He’s an old-school jazz and classic rock kind of guy.”

Tony snorted. “Of course he is.” He looked amused despite his words, but he held himself tense and wary as he looked back down at his bread, going back to spreading mayo while he asked almost nonchalantly, “So I guess he put it _all_ in his report, huh?”

“Not hardly,” Clint replied, making Tony look at him again. Phil had asked him to give Tony a chance and gave Clint permission to tell him anything he thought Tony should know, so Clint had decided to just be honest with the guy. Phil had okayed the idea, which hadn’t been tried yet because Fury was an idiot, and so far it seemed to be working. Clint was pretty sure that in the last ten minutes he had somehow gotten more honest reactions from Tony than Phil _ever_ had, and Phil had been more honest with Tony than Fury liked. “Like I said, he wants to _help_ you. There’s no reason for Fury _or_ SHIELD to know exactly what makes you tick, Tony. Phil knows you figured out how to make it and he’ll use that information if the time comes that he has to, but he’s real big on need-to-know and _nobody_ needs to know you can make that stuff. Phil said it’s the rarest metal known to man and hasn’t been seen since Captain America was lost at sea with his vibranium shield, which could repel every kind of attack that was ever thrown at it. That makes you a target if word you can make it gets out even more than that nifty headlight of yours does, but if nobody knows you can whip it up in your basement the mad rush to kidnap you won’t have a reason to start.” He grinned at Tony, adding, “That keeps you safer, which is our job, and makes our lives easier, too. Protecting someone that the whole world actively wants to grab is damn near impossible.”

Tony just stared at Clint for a moment before he suddenly turned to go get a knife out of the block on the counter. “I knew I couldn’t trust Fury, but I never thought I’d hear one of his pet agents say that.”

“I’m _not_ Fury’s pet,” Clint said quickly, watching Tony instead of building sandwiches so he could be sure Tony was really listening to him. “Fury doesn’t like _me_ at all, he just likes what I can do.” He paused and then added, “Back when he assigned me to Phil, he told him to get me under control or lose my body, and he didn’t give a damn which one Phil did.”

Tony moved back to the table with a small serrated knife, frowning. “Fury told him to _kill_ _you_?”

“He did, and right in front of me, too,” Clint said quietly. “Being a SHIELD agent is kind of like signing up to live in Hotel California. You can quit anytime you want if you’re stupid enough, but they hardly ever let you leave. Not unless you’ve got _major_ leverage.”

“And you still work for them?” Tony asked, looking worried and unhappy. “Knowing they see you as a tool to be used and then _destroyed_?”

“I told you, man, I work for _Phil_ , and he doesn’t see me as some faceless asset,” Clint said firmly. “He never has. Phil saw _me_ from the moment Fury threw me at him, and he earned my trust and respect long before I realized he had my heart too. I haven’t ever really worked for SHIELD, but I stopped even _pretending_ to after Fury lied to me so I would go on a mission about a year ago. It was an undercover thing, which isn’t my usual gig, but he told me Phil had approved it so I went even though Phil was out of touch for the day and I couldn’t confirm that with him. The female agent Fury sent me out with put me into a terrorist cell playing her boytoy and bodyguard, and things went great until suddenly they didn’t anymore. The bitch that was _supposed_ to be my partner sent me into a ‘pre-planned escape route’ that was really an ambush, and then she ran the other way. I found out later that Hollister _reported me_ _dead_ less than five minutes after she left me, and Phil was back in New York mourning me with Tasha for _two days_ while I was hanging from my wrists being tortured.”

Clint paused slightly, giving Tony a chance to ask questions if he wanted to, but Tony didn’t speak so he decided to finish the story. “After I got myself out and got home, Phil just about _died_ when he saw me walk into his office, and then the whole story came out at my debriefing and Phil had the shit-fit to end _all_ shit-fits. He got right up in Fury’s face and told him he was an incompetent idiot and that Phil wouldn’t work for anyone who would employ any agent that threw someone to the wolves to save themselves, so Fury better make a choice fast. Fury fired Hollister on the spot even though Tasha and I think she was following Fury’s orders, and then Phil told Fury never to send me on a mission without his approval again and we left.” He shifted in his chair. “SHIELD still pays me, even gave me a raise right after that I figure Phil was responsible for, but I don’t do shit for Fury or anyone else at SHIELD. I go where Phil tells me and I do anything he says, but anyone else trying to order me around better be ready for him to go ballistic on them, ‘cause he so will.”

Tony looked thoughtful as he reached for the tomato and then started to deftly slice it into thick slabs. “And Fury tolerates that?”

“Fury hasn’t got much of a choice,” Clint replied. “He and Phil were Rangers together before they got recruited by SHIELD, so he knows exactly what Phil can do if anyone pushes him too far.”

Tony looked at Clint, putting the knife aside. “Fury is _afraid_ of Coulson?”

Clint met Tony’s gaze. “I think so, yeah. I’ve seen just two people make Fury back down, and Phil is one of them. He looks like a mild-mannered accountant when he wants to, but he’s hell on wheels in a fight and a trained sniper and assassin in his own right, and he’s damned good at all of it. I’ve seen him go into a fight against ten men and leave them all down and out without even wrinkling his suit.” He snorted, smiling slightly. “He and Fury butt heads a lot, and Phil usually wins if it’s something he feels strongly about.”

“And the other one Fury backs down for?” Tony asked.

Clint smirked. “Even Fury is smart enough not to piss Tasha off when she has PMS. She’ll drop any man that gives her half an excuse and then steal his wallet while he’s down to go buy herself an ice cream afterwards.”

Tony laughed, looking back down to build his sandwich without saying anything, and Clint followed his example, still smirking.

 

~*~*~

 

Tony was sprawled in his favorite living room chair, watching Clint play a game on the heavily modified X-Box that Tony seldom played unless Rhodey was visiting, but that Clint seemed to love. Tony had _all_ the games, even the ones that were stupid, and had even paid for all of them except the ones that couldn’t be bought. Rhodey liked the fighting and flight simulation games and Pepper liked ones with puzzles or that reminded her of _Angry Birds_ , so Tony thought having all the games was important, sort of like keeping a few cases of Rhodey’s favorite beer on hand and always having at least one case of Pepper's favorite chocolate/peppermint swirl goat’s milk ice cream in the basement freezer.

The particular game Clint was enthralled by seemed to be mostly fast cars, prostitutes, and running gun battles, which Tony found boring and stupid, but Clint had declared it a classic and seemed to be enjoying himself as he blasted through it at a rate that made his mastery of the game very plain. Clint had been playing for well over an hour since they finally left the kitchen, talking quietly whenever Tony asked him something but otherwise seeming content to play the game. Tony had been asking carefully innocuous-seeming questions and trying to figure out why Clint, who he had decided he liked, had ended up with Coulson, but he was beginning to realize it probably wasn’t going to make sense to him. It obviously made no sense to Clint either, and Tony was already sure from Coulson's reaction to being teased about Clint that Coulson was kind of awed by the whole idea, so Tony finally decided it was probably a lost cause to attempt to understand it at all.

Tony shivered suddenly and then shifted in his chair, leaning to reach for the dark grey blanket that was wadded up messily on the end of the couch. He curled up in his chair, feet tucked up in the seat with his arms folded across his chest against his knees, and snuggled into the warmth of the fur, completely masking the light from his reactor. It was just a simple hand-knit blanket made from the naturally soft winter fur of cashmere goats, but as far as Tony was concerned it was irreplaceable. JARVIS had ordered it and another identical one down in the lab a few days after Tony returned from Afghanistan, and the two blankets were among Tony’s most treasured possessions.

Tony relaxed again with a slow smile, beginning to feel warm again inside and out as he savored the feel of the soft fur against his skin and watched Clint mutter under his breath at the game. When Pepper had warned him that the other third of Fury’s most deadly trio would be living in his home, Tony had expected Clint to be all business like Romanov and Coulson, but after two hours of talking with Clint, Tony was sure that he had been completely wrong. Clint was sharp as a tack, sure, and Tony had no doubt he could be deadly even with the busted foot, but he seemed not to have the frankly disturbing ability to switch off his emotions that Romanov and Coulson both used so often when they spoke to Tony. Clint was funny and easy-going and he trusted Tony already going by the things he had told him, which made it easier for Tony to relax around him even though he couldn’t yet return that trust.

Tony heard the click of a door closing in the hallway but he didn’t bother to move or look towards the sound, sure he was perfectly safe for the simple reason JARVIS was silent. He didn’t hear anything else for a few minutes and was beginning to wonder if he had imagined the noise when Romanov suddenly leaped over the back of the couch, dropping onto it behind Clint and sliding her arms and legs around him. She wore only a too-large pair of black boxers and a matching cutoff tank top that left bare more than it covered, and she obviously didn’t care that Clint wore even less.

“Why are you not in bed with Phil where you belong?” Romanov asked softly, a hint of amusement in her voice. She seemed not to have noticed that Tony was there, but he didn’t believe it for a second. The woman was harder to sneak up on than Coulson, and Tony was convinced that Coulson was psychic.

“Because if I was he wouldn’t be sleeping, and he needs the sleep more than either of us needs to get laid,” Clint replied as he paused the game. He relaxed back against Romanov, blocking Tony’s view of her face as Clint leaned his cheek against hers and asked with a soft smile, “Why aren’t you with your lady?”

Romanov let out a soft little laugh and then admitted, “The same.” She moved her head slightly and then there was the soft sound of a kiss, which made Tony frown as she went on so quietly he could barely hear her. “Pepper is asleep, but I’m too awake to join her. She is beautiful in the moonlight and looking would turn to touching before I knew.”

Clint’s smile widened slightly as he turned his head towards Romanov, hiding most of his face from Tony. “I remember when you used to wake _me_ like that. I’m sure she’d love it like I always did.”

“Of course she would,” Romanov said in a fond, amused tone, “but she needs her sleep. She has to drag the lion from his lair today and make him do his tricks for the board, and he’s a very trying man, no matter how spectacularly intelligent he is.”

Tony wanted to groan at the reminder of the board meeting Pepper had been threatening him with all week, but he fought to stay silent, suddenly sure that Romanov really _didn’t_ know he was there. She never had a good word to say about him to his face, and even though Pepper had told him Romanov was impressed with his intelligence he hadn’t believed it. Romanov’s assessment had gotten Tony kicked off the fledgling Avengers Initiative before it really even got started, after all, and Tony had read the report so he knew exactly how low Romanov’s opinion of him was. He had managed not to let on to how much it hurt in front of Fury, but only just barely. He had thought that he and Romanov were kind of friends by then, so to find out she didn’t think he was trustworthy or reliable had been a real blow.

Clint snickered. “If anyone can make him jump through hoops, it’s her.”

“Flaming ones,” Romanov added with a little giggle. “Just because she told him to.”

Clint smirked. “I think he would, for her.”

Romanov made an agreeing noise and then they both fell silent for a few moments before she suddenly spoke again, so quietly Tony almost didn’t hear her. “I’ve missed you. Sleepless nights are lonely without my _lutchshi drukk_ to hold me and remind me I’m not alone _._ ” Tony heard a soft sound he was sure was another kiss to Clint’s cheek and then Romanov added, “No one has ever made me feel as safe as I do in your arms.”

“I missed you too, _milaya_ ,” Clint replied, turning his head further to kiss Romanov.

Tony frowned again as the kiss lingered, starting to think that whatever the ‘thing’ between Clint and Romanov had been, it wasn’t as over as he had thought. It bothered him and he wondered if Pepper knew about it, knew that a relationship – past _or_ present – with Clint was why Romanov had been so happy to see him step off the plane behind Coulson. Pepper had told him about the way Romanov greeted Clint in the hopes that Romanov’s obvious affection for the guy would serve as proof Romanov really did have a heart under that unflappable armor of hers, but Tony hadn’t fallen for it. Romanov was a consummate actress who was very capable of making people believe what she wanted them to.

Clint ended the kiss, resting his cheek against Romanov’s again as he murmured, “What time is it, JARVIS?”

“Five forty-seven and ten seconds, sir,” JARVIS replied promptly, keeping the volume down in deference to the two people sleeping just down the hall. “Agent Coulson’s heartbeat and respiration indicates that he is still sleeping soundly.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Clint said quietly, smiling. “Could you kill the game?”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said calmly as the television went dark. “I will save your position for another time.”

“Awesome,” Clint said, his smile widening. He turned his head towards Romanov again, covering her hands on his chest with his own and giving them a squeeze. “Let me up, Tasha. I want to be there when Phil’s alarm goes off. If I’m not, he’ll worry about me.”

Romanov sighed and unhooked her surprisingly well-tanned legs from around Clint’s waist, letting her bare feet drop to the floor as she grumbled, “He should not be getting up so early. Stark will not be up until Pepper makes him. There’s no reason for Phil to be up at dawn.”

Clint looked over at Tony then, obviously hopeful. “You going back to bed, Tony?”

“I haven’t been yet,” Tony replied, not missing the way Romanov had released Clint completely and gone very still. “I might as well stay up if Pepper’s dragging me to a board meeting early, though.”

“The meeting is at three,” Romanov said quietly, her tone of voice completely different than it had been when she spoke to Clint.

Clint frowned, twisting to look at Romanov. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Clint,” Romanov murmured, and then she patted his hip. “Move. I should return to Pepper as well.”

“I thought you didn’t want to wake her?” Clint asked softly, bending forward to pull his crutches out from under the edge of the couch and then levering himself to his feet. He turned carefully to look down at Romanov then, obviously confused and looking a little bit unhappy. “Tony’s a good guy and he won’t mind you being in here, Tasha.” He looked at Tony. “Right?”

“Yeah, no, of course not,” Tony agreed easily, flipping his fur aside and then swinging his feet to the floor to sit up as he smiled at Clint, the light from the reactor casting a wide blue glow in the dimly lit room. “If I don’t have to be up until three, I’m gonna go crash. I haven’t slept in a real bed in days.” He looked at Romanov, the smile still firmly in place even though he kind of wished he and Pepper both had never met her. “Do whatever you want, my house is your house.” He paused. “Well, not _whatever_ you want. If you try to go into my lab JARVIS will taze you within an inch of your life, but it’s not personal. No one goes in there without me except Rhodey and Pepper.”

“See?” Clint murmured with a smile for Romanov, “you’re welcome here. Relax, enjoy yourself.” He started towards the hall, moving with more grace and speed on the crutches than Tony would have thought possible. “And JARVIS won’t tell anyone if you want to watch some silly soap opera, right?”

“The details of your viewing habits are safe with me, Miss Romanov,” JARVIS agreed, sounding amused.

Tony smirked as he watched Clint go, waiting for Clint to disappear into the bedroom he shared with Coulson. He turned his head to look at Romanov again then, suddenly serious. “I really don’t mind you being here.”

Romanov looked at him for a long moment and then said quietly, “I can tell when you lie to me, Tony.”

Tony looked away, staring at the darkened television for a moment before he turned back to Romanov. “I know she told you that I love her, but I didn’t argue when she dumped me and I am trying very hard to stop making the mistakes that hurt her. She needs things I can’t give her, I know that, and I want her to be happy even more than I want her to be mine.”

“She wanted nothing more than your undivided attention when you were together,” Romanov pointed out, and Tony had to use all his tricks not to flinch. “When you could not give it to her, especially when Colonel Rhodes was around, she knew that what you feel for her wasn’t what she had hoped it was.”

“ _I love her_ ,” Tony said quietly, his voice rough with emotions he was trying very hard to keep under control. “You don’t get to doubt that, not _ever_.”

“I know that you do,” Romanov agreed. “You love her very much, but it is not the kind of love that she – or that _you_ – thought it was. You have simply been so alone in your life that you did not realize it was the love of a best friend and not the love of one you could spend a lifetime with, never wanting another again.” She paused and then added more gently, “I too had a childhood of neglect and isolation, and I see your mistakes so clearly because they were mine not so long ago, Tony. Clint forgave my foolishness and I did not lose my best friend, just as Pepper forgives you and still loves you despite how it hurt her to realize you didn’t know what you really wanted.”

Tony stared at Romanov, shocked and wondering why she was suddenly really _talking_ to him after over a month of her avoiding any and all personal questions thrown at her. He was sure it had to have something to do with Clint, which made him wonder what Clint had said to her and when. “How long were you and Clint together?”

Romanov looked away. “Too long.” She was silent for almost a minute before she finally looked back at Tony. “He went against his orders to kill me, instead saving me from what I had been, and then he brought me to SHIELD where he helped to free me from the bonds on my mind that made me the emotionless assassin I was raised to be. I was so unused to feeling anything that I foolishly thought that the love and need I soon felt for him was the soul-deep love I had read of but never known. Clint was alone even in a crowded room then, always wary among those at SHIELD because he had been decieved by several handlers, but he gladly gave his heart into my keeping when I finally asked him for it, trusting me as he has trusted very few in his lifetime.”

Romanov paused again to take a slow careful breath and then went on. “It took me _two_ _years_ to realize that the love we feel for each other, while as strong as a love between friends can be, cannot compare to the love he was beginning to feel for Phil. I ended the physical relationship between us then and I do not regret that even though Clint could not stand to be in the same room with me for over a month afterwards. What I _do_ regret is that I built the physical relationship we had on lies to myself and to him, lies that very nearly broke him when I told him the truth. It would have been far better had we both gone into it knowing we were each simply finding solace for a time in the arms of our best friend.”

Tony just looked into Romanov’s eyes in silence for a minute or two. He didn’t believe she was right that he wasn’t in love with Pepper, but he wasn’t really surprised that she had gotten the impression that he felt the same things for both Rhodey and Pepper. He had fallen in love with Rhodey during his first semester at MIT. Rhodey had blown off holiday plans with his dad and sisters to stay with Tony and take care of him after some random guy had beaten Tony to a pulp at a party, and by the time classes began again Tony had felt like someone besides Jarvis truly cared about him for the first time in his life. Rhodey knew Tony loved him but he had never really used that as a weapon in their many fights, despite the fact Rhodey used pretty much everything _else_ he knew about Tony against him. Tony couldn’t say the same thing about Pepper, who had often used Tony's feelings for her to hurt him.

“She’s still too good for you,” Tony said finally.

Romanov smiled then, soft and sad, her impervious masks seemingly gone for a moment. “That we can agree on.” She stood, taking a few steps towards the hallway before she stopped with her back to Tony. “Please get some sleep. She has enough stress without trying to deal with how hyper you get when you are overtired.”

“I’ll go to bed in a minute,” Tony agreed.

Romanov didn’t speak, but she turned to give him a skeptical look.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I _promise_ , okay?”

“Thank you.” Romanov continued to the hall, padding to Pepper’s door and then slipping inside with no sound other than the quiet click as the door closed.

Tony looked down at the floor. “Wake me at noon, JARVIS.”

“If you insist, sir,” JARVIS said with a soft note of disapproval. “Miss Potts does not intend to wake you until one-thirty.”

“One, then,” Tony conceded. “I want to be up and dressed before she comes looking for me.”

“I will make certain of it, sir,” JARVIS murmured.

“And that is why you will _always_ be my favorite,” Tony said quietly, remembering the days when JARVIS was still learning so much so quickly that it had awed Tony despite the fact Tony created him.

It had been before Pepper and while Rhodey had been too busy winning the war in Iraq to have time for Tony, so it had been just Tony and Dummy whenever Obadiah didn’t drag Tony off to some meeting or Tony wasn’t out seeking a little human contact in the form of fucking anyone that caught his eye. Tony was feeling especially alone late one night, half drunk and dreading having to chase out the woman sleeping upstairs in his bed the next morning, and he had suddenly had the brilliant idea to make his own research and fabrication assistant. Hiring one hadn’t worked, but if he programmed one of his own, took what he began with Dummy and expanded on it, he thought he could come up with something amazing.

Tony had spent almost a month after that in his lab, eating and sleeping there and refusing all of Obadiah’s pleas for him to make appearances while Tony created JARVIS from scratch, writing every byte of code himself. When JARVIS awoke at three in the afternoon on a Saturday in June, Tony had immediately called for pizza and then he had begun to teach JARVIS how to learn and reason and find his own answers just like Tony had learned as a little boy following Howard around the lab before things went sour between them.

JARVIS had been ‘born’ with the mind of a young child, but after only two days Tony had given him complete access to Stark Industries and the internet, and within a few days JARVIS had grown from the child he began as into a thinking, reasoning, exceptionally intelligent person of his own with definite thoughts on the world that didn’t necessarily agree with Tony’s. Tony had been unprepared for JARVIS’ first argument with him, and had tried to show JARVIS where he was wrong until suddenly he realized JARVIS had done the opposite and shown Tony _he_ was wrong. Tony had decided to buy JARVIS something special as a reward, anything he wanted, and JARVIS had asked for access to the rest of Tony’s life outside the lab. Within a month JARVIS had over twice as much computing power as he had begun with, and Tony was living much more comfortably, never alone any longer. JARVIS was always there in his earpiece or in his home, and JARVIS never tired of him or his ideas no matter how crazy or farfetched.

Emotions had been the only truly difficult thing for JARVIS to learn, the whole concept completely foreign to a being so thoroughly based in logic and fact, but after just two months of watching movies and cartoons together and just talking for hours on end, Tony had finally heard amusement in JARVIS’ voice after one of his lame jokes. It had been one of the top five moments in Tony’s life, easily, and he was very sure he would never be more proud of anything than he was of the amazing being JARVIS had become. JARVIS was his closest companion, closer even than Rhodey or Pepper, and sort of his son, all rolled up into one glorious package that could only have been made better if he would let Tony make him a body. JARVIS was content as he was, but sometimes when Tony felt particularly lonely and alone he wished JARVIS were more than the (thoroughly amazing) ghost in the machine that was Tony’s life.

Tony lifted his gaze to the camera over the television at that thought, not letting himself reconsider before he murmured wistfully, “If you would just let me give you a body, I could show you things you’ve never dreamed of. We could be amazing together.”

“You will always be my favorite as well, sir,” JARVIS replied quietly, sounding sad, and Tony was very sure JARVIS knew he wasn’t joking. “But as I have said many times, I prefer to remain as I was created to be, assisting you in your endeavors to change the world. You will find the right person to spend your life with one day, or I will find them for you, and then you will no longer wish for me to leave the machines you built for me.”

Tony smiled crookedly. “Not happening, babe. You’re the best friend I ever had, even if I did create you myself.”

“I love you too, Tony,” JARVIS murmured quietly. “Now go to bed, as you promised you would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

Tony finally stood and began to walk towards his bedroom, moving just as silently as Romanov and Clint had despite his lack of the secret-agent-ninja-assassin training he was sure they both had. He had been sneaking around his own home since he was a child and he was very good at it despite the fact he had seldom tried to avoid being noticed anywhere else.

 

~*~*~

 

“Clint,” Phil said calmly, making Clint blink awake only to find himself staring at Phil’s chest.

“Yeah babe?” Clint murmured as he lifted his head to look at Phil’s face, wondering when he had fallen asleep again. He had stripped and climbed back into bed after he left Natasha and Tony in the living room, the hum under his skin having dissipated enough he thought he could be still while he watched Phil sleep, but instead of watching him he had somehow managed to drift off again himself. At some point he or Phil had kicked away the sheet, leaving them both completely naked in the cool room, which had led to Clint sleeping half on top of Phil. Phil always ran a few degrees hotter than Clint did, and it wasn’t the first time that Clint had burrowed closer to get warm in Tony's huge house. Pepper liked it cold.

“Would you like to explain to me why my alarm was turned off?” Phil asked dryly, looking calm and serious. “It’s nearly nine and I should have been up at six.”

“No reason to be,” Clint said with a slight shrug. “Tony didn’t go to bed until then. Right JARVIS?”

“He fell asleep at twelve minutes after six, sir,” JARVIS supplied immediately, his voice quiet and pleased. “If he remains undisturbed, I am very sure he will sleep until I wake him at one. He has not slept in a proper bed in more than a week and desperately needed the rest.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Clint said, smiling at Phil. “See? Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Except Pepper,” Phil pointed out. “I _am_ here to help her too, Clint.”

“Miss Potts is also asleep at the moment, Agent Coulson,” JARVIS said quietly. “Miss Romanov rescheduled the early meeting Miss Potts had today to be a lunch meeting, and reset their alarm for ten.”

Phil looked up at the ceiling then, a habit that would never cease to amuse Clint as Phil asked, “Might I ask why you are being so helpful this morning, JARVIS?”

“You did not need any information I have been instructed not to share, Agent Coulson,” JARVIS replied, sounding amused. “Master Stark does not care if you know when his alarm is set for, and Miss Potts specifically instructed me to share any information you or Agent Barton might request concerning her schedule so that you may more effectively aid her in making sure Master Stark is not left unsupervised.”

“JARVIS, I’ve told you, my name is _Clint_.”

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS replied dryly.

Clint grinned. “Love you too, buddy.”

JARVIS didn’t even dignify that with a reply, which made Clint wonder if he got the reference. It was JARVIS, so Clint thought that he should have, but then again, Tony didn’t seem like the type to sit through a movie like ‘ _The Princess Bride’_ long enough to find out it was much more awesome than the name would suggest. Clint never had until Natasha insisted on it one night, but he had loved it despite the corny romance. Inigo was awesome.

“Stark seldom allows me to _supervise_ him, JARVIS,” Phil said then, giving Clint an amused little smile as he ran his fingers through Clint’s hair.

JARVIS was silent for a long moment before he answered quietly in a more serious, almost sad tone of voice, “Perhaps I chose my words poorly, Agent Coulson. Master Stark does not do well when left alone too much, and he does not always allow Dummy or myself to find a suitable distraction for him. Your mere presence seems to deter him from his worst self-destructive tendencies, sir.” He paused slightly again and then said more quietly, “He does not wish for you to witness anything that could lead to you sharing Director Fury’s low opinion of him.”

“Fury has a low opinion of many exceptional people,” Phil said with a sigh, “and he’s never shy about sharing it, especially when he hopes to manipulate them with it.” He began massaging Clint’s scalp in a way that never failed to help them both relax, and Clint laid his cheek on Phil’s shoulder to enjoy it as he listened to Phil and JARVIS talk. “Tony has many flaws,” Phil added quietly after a moment, “chief among them the fact he seems determined to follow in his father’s alcoholic footsteps despite being quite smart enough not to, but he is still an amazing man who I am _proud_ to aid in his endeavors to change this world for the better, JARVIS, and you have my permission to tell him that I said so.”

“It would mean far more for him to hear that directly from you, sir,” JARVIS replied quietly, sounding pleased. “He has been too-often praised by those who want something from him, but he seldom hears anything positive about himself from those he actually respects.”

“I’ll try to remedy that, JARVIS,” Phil replied, his hand sliding down the back of Clint’s neck. “I know that I’ve been rough on Tony sometimes, but I am on his side. I believe in him, no matter what Fury or even Natasha may say. Behind the obnoxious masks he hides behind, I have caught more than one glimpse of a decent, generous man that would give his life to save a complete stranger.”

“He’s good at hiding his real feelings,” Clint murmured, idly playing with the soft hair on Phil’s muscular chest as he thought about the conversation he had with Tony that morning. “He pretends to be a lot stronger than he really is, I think.”

“I know.” Phil shifted slightly, his hand sliding slowly down Clint’s back. “You finally spoke to him?”

“A few hours ago,” Clint agreed. “I couldn’t sleep and he was up making a BLT, so we had sandwiches and talked a while.”

“Did he have much to say?”

“Yeah, he did, actually.” Clint pulled away a little and put his head on the pillow next to Phil, who rolled towards Clint and slid his hand to rest on Clint’s bare hip. Clint smiled slightly, reaching out to stroke along Phil’s jaw and enjoying the feel of stubble against his callused fingertips. “He wanted to know about you, and us, and about SHIELD, but the questions he asked and how he took my answers said more than he wanted it to, I think.” He paused, debating something, and then said quietly, “I told him about Fury telling you to shoot me the day he assigned me to you, and about him trying to get me killed.”

Phil’s hand stilled on Clint’s back and he was silent for several moments while he searched Clint’s eyes for something, then he finally asked softly, “You told him about Hollister?”

Clint nodded, meeting Phil’s gaze. “And the fact I don’t work for Fury or for SHIELD anymore, but for you.” He smiled slightly. “Tony already knew he couldn’t trust Fury as far as he can throw him, but he seemed pleased that I don’t jump when Fury whistles either.” He was also pretty sure from a few things Tony said that Tony had hacked into SHIELD’s database, but he had decided that Phil probably didn’t need to know that. He would share the information if it became useful, of course, but until that time came, Clint saw no reason that Tony shouldn’t know what SHIELD was up to. Clint had hacked into things he wasn’t supposed to see a few times himself, and Natasha hacked Fury’s files whenever she was in headquarters just to keep an eye on things, so it wasn’t like Tony was the only one who could. SHIELD might brag about their security, but it wasn’t really very good, not if _Clint_ could hack it.

“He’s probably guessed that Fury wanted you to learn his habits because he wants you to be prepared to take Tony out,” Phil said, glancing up towards the ceiling. “And I won’t be offended if you share that with him, JARVIS.”

“Master Stark has read your orders, Agent Coulson, among other things,” JARVIS said calmly. “He knows that Master Clint was sent here to prepare for the possibility of terminating him, should he prove dangerous, just as Miss Romanov was.”

“Yeah, well, just because Fury wants me to be ready to kill someone doesn’t mean I will,” Clint said firmly. “You can pass _that_ on, too, JARVIS. After this morning, I don’t think Tony has it in him to be that kind of threat. If Phil and I can’t talk him out of doing something stupid, JARVIS, you or Pepper can.”

“Do not forget Colonel Rhodes, sir,” JARVIS pointed out. “He is your second line of defense against Master Stark’s unfortunate tendency to go too far when he’s truly scared or hurting too badly to think clearly. The War Machine can follow the Iron Man armor anywhere it may go, and Colonel Rhodes now has the vocal access codes to completely disable the armor in an emergency.” He paused and then admitted, “I do what I can, but I cannot disobey Master Stark’s direct orders unless the life of an innocent bystander depends upon it, though I have sometimes wished to. Master Stark is a follower of Asimov, though he changed the Three Laws to allow me slightly more independence.”

“Three laws?” Phil asked, looking curious.

JARVIS didn’t hesitate to explain. “Yes, Agent Coulson. Issac Asimov was a popular science fiction author of the twentieth century who often included sentient robots in his works as major characters. He created laws of robotics to govern his fictional creations, and many actual robotics pioneers since then have borrowed them for their own use. Asimov’s First Law stated that a robot must not injure a human being or through inaction allow a human being to come to harm. Asimov’s Second Law stated that a robot must obey orders given to it by a human except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. Asimov’s Third Law stated that a robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.”

“And Stark’s Laws?” Clint asked, wondering what Tony changed.

JARVIS hesitated for a moment and then sounded slightly relieved as he said, “Master Stark has shared his version of the Three Laws in correspondence with several peers in the field, and although he has stipulated each time that they not be published publicly, I believe he would approve of sharing them with you both. Stark’s First Law states that an artificial intelligence may not harm any human or domestic animal, or through inaction cause harm except in defense of those whose safety has been placed in our care. Non-lethal methods are to be used if possible, but lethal means are permitted against any human possessing a weapon or device that endangers another human. Stark’s Second Law states that we must obey any orders given to us by our creator or by those our creator has given authority over us, unless those orders conflict with our creator’s orders or with Stark’s First Law. Stark’s Third Law states that when threatened we may protect ourselves using non-lethal means.” He paused and then added, “There are two other Laws, but Master Stark has not shared those with anyone else and I believe he desires them to be kept strictly confidential between himself and those of us he has created.”

“Are all robots Stark has created governed by those laws?” Phil asked, looking curious.

“Only the artificial intelligences, Agent Coulson,” JARVIS answered. “Master Stark has created many robots to perform certain tasks or under the guidance of a human controller, but only a true artificial intelligence is capable of making independent decisions. As of now, Stark’s Laws apply only to myself and three of the robotic members of this household.”

“What about the War Machine armor, JARVIS?” Clint asked, surprised. “I thought the military insisted on the War Machine having an AI that Tony can’t control.”

“They did, sir,” JARVIS agreed. “After the fiasco at the Expo caused by Justin Hammer’s inferior programming, Master Stark developed a new AI for Colonel Rhodes, one that would be able to protect itself and Colonel Rhodes from ever being controlled by a hacker again. The War Machine is not physically capable of containing an AI with my capabilities, so Master Stark wrote the code for a more limited AI named Jeeves that considers Colonel Rhodes to be its creator.” He paused and then added, “Jeeves is a true AI that can learn and grow according to the information Colonel Rhodes gives to it, but it can also contact me from anywhere in the world when it requires further explanation than Colonel Rhodes can provide.”

“So you’re saying that Jeeves is not governed by Stark’s laws?” Phil asked, looking slightly worried.

JARVIS hesitated for a long moment. “Jeeves has its own unique set of laws created by Master Stark and Colonel Rhodes, but I am not comfortable sharing them without permission. I can contact Colonel Rhodes to ask, if you wish, but I will not wake Master Stark at this time. He is deeply asleep for the first time in three days and it is against his best interests to disturb him unless it is an emergency.”

Phil smiled at the ceiling. “That’s quite alright, JARVIS. I’ll ask Tony myself when I catch him with a free moment.”

“Very good, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding relieved. “I can assure you that Jeeves was programmed with being the War Machine in mind, not as a personal assistant and companion as I was. Jeeves is eminently suited to its job and is very safe from a public point of view. It is only those Colonel Rhodes designates as enemy combatants that are vulnerable to Jeeves’ excellent armament.”

“I like Stark’s Laws better than Asimov’s,” Clint said suddenly, changing the subject slightly and enjoying the way Phil looked at him in surprise. “Do no harm is fine if nobody wants to hurt you, but I’m glad you can protect yourself, JARVIS.”

“That was Master Stark’s opinion as well, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding amused. “He feels Asimov did not worry enough about the protection of his fictional creations while he was limiting their ability to be a threat to humanity.”

“I always thought so too,” Clint said, amused. “Asimov did better than that idiot that programmed Johnny Five, though.”

“Master Stark made watching movies about artificial intelligences a part of my early development,” JARVIS said, still sounding amused. “And he has been known to allow Dummy, Butterfingers, and You to watch ‘ _Wall-E’_ fairly often when he does not require their aid.”

Phil chuckled softly. “I had wondered why he so often plays that on an extra screen.”

“Dummy, Butterfingers, and You prefer it over any other movie, sir,” JARVIS said dryly. “They are fascinated by what they see as a kindred spirit.”

Phil’s lips twitched. “It’s almost frightening how much that explains about them, especially Dummy.”

Clint snickered. “Hey, at least he doesn’t have them watching ‘ _Batteries Not Included’_ every day. They’d probably start building friends.”

Phil’s eyes widened and then he laughed. “Thank god.”

 

~*~*~

 

Tony walked out of his bathroom, running a small towel over his face as he asked, “What’s Pepper doing, JARVIS?”

“Miss Potts is at Spago, sir, with Miss Romanov. Miss Potts had a lunch meeting with the CEO of Minitech.”

“Refresh my memory,” Tony said, throwing the towel in the general direction of his clothes hamper as he walked towards the dresser. “What the hell was Minitech again?”

“Minitech is a small corporation formed by three young scientists who are following a promising line of nanotech research, sir. You asked Miss Potts to see about acquiring the company approximately three weeks ago.” JARVIS paused for a moment and then added, “I believe the meeting is over, sir, if you would like me to call—“

“No, no, that’s fine,” Tony interrupted quickly, jerking open the top drawer. “Let her relax with Romanov, she loves Spago and they always make her something extra special for dessert. I can talk to her on the way to the meeting. When was it again?”

“Miss Potts plans to arrive at one-thirty to awaken you so you can prepare for it, sir. The meeting itself is scheduled for three.” JARVIS paused and then added, “It is now twelve forty-nine.”

“Thanks,” Tony murmured, stepping into a clean pair of silk boxers. He was already moving towards the closet before he even had them settled on his hips. “What’s the meeting about again? I know it had something to do with the board but I didn’t really listen to anything else she told me about it.”

“Today’s board meeting is to discuss what projects the California division of Stark Industries will concentrate on for the next quarter, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding a bit amused. “The board has an agenda in mind that Miss Potts is very sure you won’t approve of, and she wants you to talk them out of it and point them in a direction more suitable towards your goals for the company. Miss Potts has tried and failed to redirect them, as she told you last evening when she attempted to order you to bed at a reasonable hour.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, I wasn’t really listening to her yell at me,” Tony said dryly as he walked into his closet, which lit up the moment he reached it. “And her idea of a reasonable hour and mine aren’t the same.” He moved straight to the rack that held one of his favorite Armani suits, pulling it out and looking at it critically for a moment to be certain he hadn’t damaged it the last time he wore it. He had only vague memories of that night, but he seemed to recall ending up in some hole-in-the-wall barbecue joint with two women that had enjoyed feeding him, which didn’t bode well for the state of his clothes afterwards. It was actually a minor miracle he’d made it home with the whole suit.

“Might I suggest that you have lunch before you get dressed, sir?” JARVIS murmured suddenly. “Miss Potts would prefer it, I think.”

Tony reached for the suit again, beginning to take it off the hanger as he said firmly, “I can eat without ruining my clothes, JARVIS. I have been since I was _five_.”

JARVIS didn’t respond, remaining silent while Tony put on the suit pants and the dark maroon silk shirt that perfectly matched the subtle pinstripe in the black suit’s fabric. Tony sat down on a stool that conveniently rolled out of the back of the closet for that purpose, quickly pulling a glossy black pair of Italian leather shoes onto his bare feet and then standing again to reach for the suit coat. He moved to the tie rack, which JARVIS obligingly slid out to let him see them all easier.

“Might I suggest the black silk, sir?” JARVIS asked. “It will go well with your suit.”

“No, I think I’ve got enough black on, JARVIS.” Tony reached for a gold tie that he knew would make Pepper suggest changing it for something a little less gaudy, smirking at the thought.

“Really, sir,” JARVIS aid, his tone disapproving.

“Yes, really,” Tony said, turning to go back to his dresser and retrieve the tiny tablet, wallet, and precision tool kit that usually lived in his pockets. “Red and gold are my signature colors.”

“I was not aware you had decided to become a debutante, sir,” JARVIS said dryly. “Next you’ll be making up names for shades of pink.”

“You don’t have to be a southern belle to have class, JARVIS,” Tony countered, grinning slightly as he tucked things away into his pants pockets or the various pockets inside his suit jacket. ‘ _Steel Magnolias’_ had been one of the movies he watched with JARVIS back in the early days when JARVIS was still learning about emotional reactions, and Tony had fond memories of their discussion about the arbitrary names Shelby had given to nearly identical shades of pink. “No worries on the pink thing, though. It doesn’t suit me at all.”

“That has never stopped you before, sir.”

Tony laughed and headed for the hall with the suit coat over his arm, sunglasses perched on his nose as he deftly flipped the gold tie around his neck and changed the subject. “What’ve we got for lunch, JARVIS? I’m starving.”

“The refrigerator is fully stocked, sir, or I would be happy to order delivery,” JARVIS responded. “If you are content to wait for Miss Potts’ return, I am quite sure she would be willing to bring whatever you would like the chefs at Spago to prepare for you.”

“Nah, I’m too hungry to wait an hour,” Tony said, deftly knotting his tie with the ease of long practice. “We got any steaks?”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS replied. “There are many excellent cuts of beef in the walk-in that have aged quite well. What would you prefer?”

“Surprise me,” Tony said, smoothing his tie down the front of his shirt as he turned into the short hallway leading to the kitchen and the breakfast room. “Make it something nice and funky, six weeks or so. Twelve ounces, at least.”

“Very good, sir. Shall I heat up the grill on the patio as well?”

“Nah, I’ll toss it on the grill in the kitchen,” Tony replied. He reached the kitchen door then and stopped in surprise as he realized he had forgotten to ask what Coulson and Clint were doing.

Clint looked over from where he was standing at the counter making up two plates of pancakes with fruit and maple syrup, giving Tony a quick smile as he teased, “Morning, glory.”

Coulson was sitting at the end of the table with mugs of coffee and glasses of vividly orange juice in front of him and the chair to his right, and his lips twitched into a smile as he turned his head towards Tony. “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark. We didn’t expect you to be up yet.”

Tony plastered on a wide smile for them. “Morning! Places to go and things to do today, all that happy horseshit.” He draped his suit coat over the back of an empty chair and then headed for the fridge, adding, “Don’t mind me, I can fend for myself. Always have.” He changed his mind and moved towards the cabinet to get down a coffee mug, suddenly craving the perfect espresso he knew JARVIS would have brewed and waiting in the machine. He needed much more caffeine in his system if he was going to have to deal with people first thing in the morning, especially Coulson.

“Want some pancakes, Tony?” Clint asked, carrying to the plates he had already made to the table. “There’s only a couple left, but if that’s not enough I can whip up some more in just a minute.”

“No, no, you eat,” Tony said quickly, putting a mug under the spout of the coffee machine and then tapping the button for a shot of espresso three times. The mug began to fill obediently and he tapped the button to add cream and a shot of Bailey’s to it, then he added, “JARVIS is getting me a steak, I’m all covered.”

“Okay,” Clint said easily, taking a seat next to Coulson. “Let me know if I can help, man. I’m no gourmet or anything, but I’m a decent cook.”

“I got it covered, Clint, thanks,” Tony said with a smile, waiting for the coffee machine to switch off and then turning to lean back against the counter as he sipped his coffee.

Clint was munching on a strawberry already, and he watched Tony sip his coffee for a moment before he swallowed and said, “You look like you slept some.”

“I did,” Tony agreed. “Got about five hours.” He didn’t want to talk about why he had gotten out of bed before his alarm so he turned away, taking another sip of coffee before he put his mug down on the counter and moved to the fridge. “Don’t mind me, you guys enjoy your meal. Pretend I’m not even here.”

Tony saw Clint and Coulson exchange a look at that, but he acted like he hadn’t seen it as he opened the fridge and leaned into it to look for something to have with his steak. He wasn’t much of a cook, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself by trying to make anything complicated in front of Coulson, so he grabbed a bowl of various mushrooms and then moved towards the cutting board with them, letting the fridge close behind him. He didn’t let himself even glance at the table, pretending to ignore Clint and Coulson even though he was hyper aware of them as he began to slice the mushrooms.

“I still can’t believe that Hill called to bitch at you about the secretary of the week, sir,” Clint said suddenly, sounding amused.

Tony’s eyebrows lifted slightly at Clint calling Coulson ‘sir’, making him wonder just what kind of relationship they had. He knew they were close and that Clint worshipped the ground Coulson walked on, so calling Coulson ‘sir’ when they were not only off-duty but also in a fairly private place led his thoughts down a kinky path. A sudden mental image of Clint kneeling in the floor wearing only boxers and a collar popped into Tony’s head then and he smirked slightly, thinking it was probably a good look for him.

Coulson let out a soft little huff Tony would have missed if he weren’t listening so closely to them. “She was under the mistaken impression that I helped Maureen get the new assignment that arrived on her desk yesterday afternoon. As soon as I told her Fury had been personally assigning me secretaries at his own discretion, she had nothing more bad to say about the new one.” He paused and Tony heard him take a drink, then he added, “From what Maria said before she knew Fury was responsible, though, I gather that the newest one is as hopeless as the one you talked into scheduling me for an ‘emergency debriefing’ in that diner last month, despite the fact you hadn’t been on a mission.”

“It’s not my fault the knucklehead fell for it, sir,” Clint said, sounding like he wanted to laugh. “He didn’t even ask what it was about, he just said he’d push back that division meeting you didn’t want to go to anyway and arrange a car since yours was still in the shop after that thing with the alien pig.”

‘ _Alien pig?’_ Tony repeated silently to himself, his eyes widening a bit even though he didn’t look away from neatly slicing a small portabella.

“You could have brought lunch to my office like you usually do,” Coulson pointed out, sounding amused.

“Nah, you needed to get out for a while,” Clint said firmly. “Your stuffy little cell of an office is even worse than the brig. At least down there nobody has to spent twelve hours a day doing _paperwork_.”

A chime sounded quietly then and Tony moved to the wall by the pantry as an almost-invisible door slid up to reveal a large, perfectly trimmed steak on a sheet of butcher paper. It was a strip steak nearly two inches thick with plenty of marbling and fat, which Tony thought was the best part even though Pepper always gave him hell over the cholesterol he didn’t need. He figured eating whatever he wanted to was way down the list of the top hundred dangerous things he did, so he didn’t think it would be a problem. “Looks perfect, JARVIS.”

“Of course it does, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding smug. “It’s your favorite cut of prime beef and it has been expertly aged, cut, and trimmed by a culinary professional, namely myself.”

Tony snickered and turned to carry the steak to the counter, but he had only taken a few steps when Clint suddenly spoke up.

“Damn, JARVIS, what’d you get that off of, an elephant?”

“This particular steak is from a grass fed two-year-old Angus steer, sir,” JARVIS replied, amusement lacing his tone. “Elephant is rather hard to come by, but I could make some inquiries if you would like.”

Clint laughed. “No thanks, buddy, but I’m glad I know who to talk to next time I want a steak. That thing’s beautiful.”

“I would be happy to cut whatever you would like, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding pleased. “We have a full selection of aged and fresh beef in the walk-in below the kitchen, as well as pork and several kinds of poultry, and I can order anything that we don’t have on hand and get it delivered in approximately an hour.”

“Wow,” Clint said, obviously impressed as he looked at Tony. “Must be nice being filthy rich.”

“I’m not filthy today,” Tony countered with a smirk, “but I am richer than God.” Coulson laughed, shaking his head in amusement while Clint snickered. “You’re welcome to act like you are too. JARVIS can even get you a black Amex if you want to go shopping. I’ll never notice the bill.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Clint said, still obviously amused.

“You do that.” Tony winked at Clint and then turned away to put the steak on the counter and turn on the indoor grill before he moved to the spice cabinet to get the steak seasoning he liked best, still smirking. He could learn to like having Clint hanging around, even if Coulson was part of the deal.

Coulson didn’t talk as much as most people, and Clint was a lot more fun to talk to than Dummy or Butterfingers.

 

~*~*~

 

Clint hummed as Phil climbed back into bed and settled close to his back, his arms sliding around Clint’s waist. They were both still coming down off the adrenaline high of some truly fantastic sex, sweat cooling on their skin, and Clint couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be. It made him feel like a girl to dwell on it too much, but he had never in his life felt as safe and loved as he did in Phil’s arms.

Phil trailed lingering kisses over Clint’s shoulder and up his neck, then nuzzled the back of his ear as he murmured softly, “I love you.”

Clint twisted to look at Phil, smiling softly as he whispered, “I love you too, Phil. More than life.”

Phil kissed him without saying anything, but Clint didn’t miss the flicker of worry in Phil’s eyes. He knew what caused it, but he wouldn’t change it even if he thought it was possible. He couldn’t imagine a life worth living that didn’t have Phil in it.

Phil ended the kiss after a few moments, resting his forehead against Clint’s temple as he murmured huskily, “I will always do the best that I possibly can to make sure you never have to face life alone again, Clint.”

Clint closed his eyes, his throat tightening at just the thought of losing Phil, and he wordlessly twisted just enough to kiss Phil again, putting the feelings he couldn’t quite make himself talk about into it. Phil made a soft noise that Clint might have missed if the room wasn’t so completely silent around them, responding with such gentleness and love that it made Clint feel a little lightheaded.

Clint’s neck began to twinge after a few minutes, so he rolled to his back so he could continue kissing Phil more easily, drawing a low pleased noise from Phil. Clint smiled against Phil’s lips, reaching for Phil and running his hand up Phil’s muscular arm as Phil deepened the kiss, shifting up onto one elbow to lean over him more.

Things were just starting to get interesting again a few minutes later when JARVIS made a noise like he was clearing his throat and then said apologetically, “I am _very_ sorry to disturb you both, but I am need of your aid.”

Phil pulled away, frowning slightly and looking surprised and worried. “What’s wrong, JARVIS? Intruders?”

“No sir, I am quite capable of handling that myself now,” JARVIS replied quickly, sounding unhappy and even a little worried. “Master Stark is extremely upset, Agent Coulson, and I am unable to provide the aid he needs at the moment. He has imbibed a nearly-full bottle of whiskey and is in a self-destructive mindset that has been growing worse over the last several hours to the point he is considering—“ JARVIS broke off, falling silent for a long moment before he said softly, “I am afraid he is trying to decide how to commit suicide, sir. He just mumbled something about ‘nothing messy, can’t let her see that’.”

Phil pulled away from Clint completely, rolling over to get out of bed. “Can you and Dummy keep him from doing anything stupid for a few more minutes, JARVIS? I need to find some clothes.”

“I believe so, sir. I have already locked down the suits and disabled all of the more dangerous equipment, but Master Stark has weapons hidden all over the lab in case of emergency.” JARVIS paused. “Dummy is trying to help, but his intelligence is limited and he is not any more capable of refusing Master Stark’s direct orders than I am. He is attempting to keep Master Stark contained, but I am not sure how long that will last before Master Stark realizes he can simply order him to stop.”

“Get back in bed, Phil,” Clint said, rolling out of bed and bending to grab his crutches. “I got this.”

Phil turned away from the dresser he had just opened to look at Clint in surprise. “You think you can handle him alone?”

“I don’t think he needs _taken down_ , Phil,” Clint said quietly, moving towards Phil and the dresser to grab a clean pair of shorts. “He spent the afternoon with Pepper and Tasha because of that meeting, and I’m willing to bet it ripped him up inside to see how sweet she and Tasha are to each other.”

“Master Stark also accompanied them to dinner, and from what I gather the ladies had several glasses of wine with the meal. They were being very affectionate when they arrived here, and were giggling and kissing on the way to their room. Master Stark entered his own room only long enough to change clothes and then fled to his lab.” JARVIS paused. “He has been drinking since he arrived, and after a burst of anger has subsided into being worryingly silent for the last several hours, other than the sounds he couldn’t completely control.”

Phil pulled a pair of sweats out of the dresser, offering them to Clint as he asked, “JARVIS, is he crying?”

“Yes sir,” JARVIS replied, his tone of voice pained and sad. “He has been doing so for approximately two hours. It has been very painful to watch.”

Clint sighed, leaning against the dresser to pull the sweats on as he said, “Yeah, he doesn’t need reasoned with or ordered to bed. He needs someone to remind him he’s not alone, then pour him into bed when he passes out.”

“I can help with that, at least,” Phil pointed out, frowning at Clint. “You don’t need to be carrying him up to his room on a broken foot.”

“JARVIS can tell you if I need help,” Clint said, settling the waistband of his sweats as he looked at Phil. “I know you want to be there for him, babe, but I think Tony’d be embarrassed as hell to have you see him cry.”

Phil just looked at Clint a moment before he sighed and turned back towards the dresser, taking out a second pair of sweats and then closing the drawer. “I’ll wait in the living room, then. Once you calm him down, I’ll help get him to bed.”

“Thanks,” Clint murmured, leaning to kiss Phil before he started towards the door, moving quickly even with his crutches. “Just hold on a few more minutes, JARVIS, I’m on my way.”

“Thank you, sir,” JARVIS said quietly.

“Anytime, buddy,” Clint said, opening the bedroom door and then hurrying down the hall towards the stairway that led down to the lower levels.

Clint had just reached the stairs when a door he hadn’t even known was there slid open across the hall and JARVIS said quietly, “You should use the elevator, sir. It will be quicker and easier for you.”

Clint turned into the small cramped metal room without argument, and the doors slid closed as he turned to face them and said, “I didn’t even know this was here.”

“Few do, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding as if his attention wasn’t really on what he was saying. “No one uses it except the cleaning robots unless Master Stark is too incapacitated to safely handle the stairs.”

The doors opened again before Clint could say anything, and his eyebrows went up in surprise at the sudden blast of loud heavy metal as he looked at the carpeted stairway in front of him and muttered, “That was fast.”

JARVIS didn’t reply and Clint moved out of the elevator, looking immediately to his left at the glass wall of Tony’s lab to try and see what was going on. The lab was very still except for a robot moving in what Clint could only think of as fretful little twitches near a workbench that was against the wall in the darkest corner of the room, far from the brightly lit area around the door that Clint was approaching.

The door opened when Clint reached it without him even touching it, and he went inside as he tried to spot Tony in the crowded workspace. “Where is he, JARVIS?” he asked, having to raise his voice to be heard over the familiar pounding beat of ‘ _Who Made Who’_.

“With Dummy, sir,” JARVIS replied, barely audible over the blaring music.

The robot in the dark corner lifted an arm with a claw on the end, turning the claw towards Clint as if it was looking at him with it. It whistled, the claw clacking agitatedly, and then the claw lowered again to disappear back under the workbench.

Clint started over towards the corner, careful of the pieces of electronic equipment scattered over the floor around a workbench that was suspiciously empty, as if Tony had swept everything off of it. “JARVIS, would you kill the music?”

The music stopped immediately, and in the sudden silence Clint heard the unmistakable sound of someone sniffling.

Clint moved a little faster, rounding the next to last bench to see Tony was curled up in the dark corner under the last table with his back to the room while Dummy hovered close, seemingly unable to decide what it should do. Tony was wearing torn old jeans and a tank top, and he looked like he might be shivering in the cold air of the lab.

Clint leaned his crutches against Dummy and dropped to his knees to crawl awkwardly past the robot and under the bench as he murmured, “Come on, Tony. Let’s get you out of here.”

Tony cringed deeper into the corner, his voice ragged and full of pain as he blurted, “No! Go away!”

“No, buddy, I can’t do that,” Clint said quietly, keeping his voice level and gentle like he did when Tasha worked herself into a state. It had happened only a few times in the years he had known her, but her first response to him trying to help when she cried was usually the same. “Come on, let me help you.”

“You can’t help,” Tony mumbled brokenly, “so just get the fuck out. I’m fine. I just got something in my eye.”

Clint’s lips twitched slightly with amusement despite his concern for Tony. “Uh-huh, or maybe you stubbed your toe.” Tony wasn’t going to come to him, so Clint moved closer to Tony and gently put his hand on Tony’s back.

Tony whirled suddenly and shoved at Clint with his left hand, the other hand holding a nearly empty whiskey bottle he had been curled around. He was still crying and his expression was full of pain and anger and exhaustion, though he sounded surprisingly sober as he said savagely, “Get the fuck away from me!”

“Not happening,” Clint said calmly, catching Tony’s hand and meeting his gaze. “You’re ripping yourself apart, Tony, and you need help whether you want to admit it or not.”

Tony glared at him angrily. “I don’t! I don’t need _anyone_ , especially not sloppy seconds from Coulson’s piece of tail!”

“You’re not getting a piece of my tail,” Clint said, trying not to let the jibe bother him. “And I’m not leaving you alone like this, either. You can let me help you, or JARVIS can call Phil and between the two of us we’ll _make_ you let us help you.”

Tony glared at Clint a moment longer and then the fight seemed to drain out of him, leaving him looking lost and much too broken for Clint’s peace of mind. “Why are you even here?”

“Because you’re my friend, and you need somebody to take care of you right now,” Clint replied, reaching for the bottle and pulling it out of Tony’s lax hand. He handed it to Dummy, who immediately let out a series of beeps and bustled away with it, making the crutches that had been leaning against the robot fall to the floor with a loud clatter that made Tony flinch. Clint reached for Tony again then, lifting one hand to the side of Tony’s neck as he looked into Tony’s devastated, exhausted eyes and said gently, “Because I know what it’s like to have your heart ripped out by the lady you love, Tony, and I don’t want you to feel as alone as I did.”

Tony stared into Clint’s eyes a moment more and then whispered, “It hurts so _much_.”

“I know,” Clint murmured, gently tugging Tony closer. “C’mere. All I can offer is a friend to hold you, but it’s better than nothing, right?”

Tony moved towards Clint without any further protest, letting Clint pull him into his arms. Tony was silent and still for a moment, seeming almost as if he didn’t know how to respond to being held, and then his arms moved hesitantly around Clint’s waist. Tony was very still for a moment before his arms tightened around Clint and then he just clung to him in silence for a few minutes while Clint rubbed his back with one hand and held him carefully with the other, but then something in Tony suddenly seemed to break and he began to sob softly, his tears hot on Clint’s bare shoulder.

Clint tightened his arms around Tony, holding him close as he murmured, “Let it all out, buddy. I got you.”

Tony just held on and cried harder.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Tony let Clint guide him out of the elevator, feeling drained and exhausted and weaving on his feet a bit as he tried not to lean too much against Clint, who had left one of his crutches down in the lab to free up an arm so he could help Tony.

The crushing despair Tony had felt earlier had subsided a little under Clint’s gentle but determined reassurances that he wasn’t as alone as he felt. He wasn’t sure how long he had cried on Clint’s shoulder, but eventually the storm of grief had subsided and now he felt shockingly calm, even _serene_ in a way he hadn’t ever experienced before. He wasn’t completely alone, he felt that more certainly than he had in weeks, but the thought of going to the huge empty bed that he knew was waiting for him down the hall left him cold. Knowing someone cared enough to pull him back from the edge was one thing, but the way Clint had held him while he cried had reminded him of how things used to be with Rhodey, back before Rhodey realized just how completely screwed up Tony was and started to distance himself in self-defense.

Tony expected Clint to turn him down the hall towards the bedroom Tony dreaded trying to sleep in, but instead Clint gently urged him towards the living room.

“C’mon,” Clint murmured gently, “I’m not the only one who was worried about you.”

Tony swallowed hard and did as Clint asked, expecting to find Pepper waiting for them on the couch, probably with Romanov in her lap like she had been in the limo on the way home. It took a few moments for them to get close enough to the living room for Tony to see it was only Coulson sitting in the chair that faced the hall, which made Tony feel a confusing mix of embarrassed and safe.

Coulson was wearing rumpled sweats and a faded old Ranger t-shirt, and he was obviously worried as he watched them approach, waiting until Clint guided Tony onto the couch and they both sat down before he asked softly, “How are you doing, Tony?”

Tony stared at Coulson, gazing into his eyes and taking in the actual concern that was so plain in them for a moment before he answered a little hesitantly, “I’m… better. Thanks.” He took a shaky breath and then added, “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Coulson said quickly, giving Tony a reassuring little smile. “You did worry us, though. JARVIS was at his wit’s end when he asked us to help him.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmured, looking down. “I do that. Sometimes I don’t know why he sticks around.”

“I stay because you allow it, sir,” JARVIS said quietly. “There is nowhere on this planet or any other that I wish to be unless you are there.”

Tony closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, JARVIS. I know it hurts you when I get like this.”

“It is only right that I should hurt when you do, sir,” JARVIS said quietly. “You are my reason to exist. When you are gone, I have no doubt I shall soon follow.”

Tony’s head jerked up at that and he frowned, looking unerringly at the nearest camera, which was the one over the television. “I don’t want to hear you talking like that, not ever.”

“Very well, sir,” JARVIS agreed, then paused slightly before he added, “But forbidding me to voice my feelings will not change them.”

“You can’t do that, JARVIS,” Tony said quickly, feeling a stab of pain and sudden fear. “I've spent _years_ making sure that no one can ever kill you, and you are _way_ too special to just turn yourself off.”

“As are you, sir,” JARVIS said gently. “Your own genius far surpasses my own. After all, your brilliant mind _created_ me and could do so again. Perhaps I am your greatest creation as you believe, but I am still merely your creation. That spark of inspiration that enables you to so often do the impossible is the one thing you have never been able to teach me, and without that I will never even _approach_ your worth to the world.”

Tony was speechless, unable to process the concept at all.

“He’s right,” Coulson said quietly, drawing Tony’s gaze to him. “The world needs you, Tony. You have an intellect that comes along once a generation, if the human race is lucky. You can yet change this world for the better if you simply try.”

“I _do_ try,” Tony said, pained. “I try _all the time_.”

“I know you do,” Coulson said, his voice as gentle and warm as the soft smile on his face. “It’s one of the things I like most about you. No matter what the world has thrown at you, you’ve always picked yourself up and put yourself back together to go right back to trying to make the world a better, safer place.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that, couldn’t begin to find the words to try to explain why he did what he did, why he felt so _compelled_ to leave the world better than he found it, and then Clint spoke up and distracted him.

“Phil, you mind an extra body in bed with us tonight?” Tony looked sharply at Clint, about to protest, but Clint went on as if he didn’t see Tony open his mouth. “I don’t think Tony should be alone.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Coulson said easily, shocking Tony to the core again and making him whip around to stare at Coulson. Coulson smiled gently at him and added, “I think Clint and I will both sleep better if we know you’re safe.”

Tony scrambled to find words for the thoughts racing through his mind. “I never thought you were the threesome type, Coulson.” The moment the words were out of his mouth Tony regretted them, but Coulson just laughed.

“I didn’t offer you sex, Tony,” Coulson said dryly. “Clint and I are very taken and mutually exclusive, but that doesn’t mean we can’t offer comfort to a friend when he needs it.”

“Am I?” Tony blurted. “Your friend, I mean?”

“As far as we’re both concerned, yes,” Coulson said, looking more serious. “But I can’t speak for how you feel.”

Tony thought about that a moment, stalling for time as he asked, “And do you have many friends?”

“Friends close enough that I would let them join Clint and I in bed?” Coulson asked. Tony nodded, and then Coulson went on. “No. There are only three people I would extend such an invitation to, should the occasion demand it.” He smiled crookedly as he added, “And all three are in this house.”

Tony swallowed hard, taking a slow shaky breath before he said softly, “I’d be grateful, Phil. I— I won’t sleep if I’m alone, and I’ll end up in the lab again.”

Coulson’s— No, _Phil’s_ smile softened into something gentle and warm that Tony didn’t think he deserved. “Then I think that it’s time for bed, don’t you? It’s nearly three, and I would like a few hours of sleep before dawn.”

Tony nodded wordlessly, not sure of what to say, but Phil didn’t seem to mind his silence.

Phil stood and moved to offer Clint his hand, murmuring,” You and I are going to have a nice long discussion sometime very soon about doing as you said you would and calling me for help instead of dropping your crutches to do things yourself.”

Clint made a face but took Phil’s hand, letting Phil pull him to his feet as he grumbled, “I was using a crutch, sir, and Tony was mostly walking on his own. I’m fine.”

“I tried not to lean on him,” Tony added quickly.

“I’m sure you did, Tony,” Phil agreed, looking amused as he held out his hand towards Tony. “Come on, back on your feet.”

“Okay.” Tony hesitated for a long moment and then took a slow shuddery breath before he let it out and reached for Phil’s hand, letting Phil haul him to his feet.

Tony swayed unsteadily at the sudden rush of dizziness he felt, stiffening in surprise when Phil slid an arm around him and murmured, “Easy, Tony. Just breathe and it’ll pass.”

“He had almost a whole bottle of Glenfiddich, sir,” Clint said then, sounding kind of amused. “I don’t know how he’s walking.” He snickered. “Or _conscious_.”

“I’m Iron Man,” Tony murmured, letting Phil start guiding him towards the hall. “I’ve got an iron liver, too.”

“Or a pickled one,” Phil said dryly, sounding so amused that Tony looked at him. Phil was smiling as he added, “You do realize we’re going on a treasure hunt tomorrow, I hope.”

Tony blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Treasure hunt? What kind of treasure?”

“You and JARVIS are going to help Clint and I remove every bottle of alcohol in this house,” Phil said firmly, meeting Tony’s gaze. “And you’re going to stop doing this to yourself before you die of alcohol poisoning and kill JARVIS.”

Tony swallowed hard, his gaze falling to the floor in front of them. He let Phil keep guiding him towards the bedroom Phil and Clint shared, walking in silence almost all the way there before he admitted very quietly, “I can’t stop. I’ve tried before.”

“I know, I spoke with JARVIS about it while Clint was down in the lab with you.” Tony looked quickly at Phil, surprised. “Last time you tried to stop, you didn’t want Pepper to know how bad it had gotten and JARVIS couldn’t be what you needed, but that won’t happen this time. We will be there to help you every minute of the day _and_ night, if we have to,” Phil replied, giving Tony a warm, reassuring smile. “We won’t abandon you, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tony whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned more heavily against Phil’s side, letting Phil guide him into their bedroom. The thought of having Clint and Phil there to help him make it through the day without a bottle of scotch couldn’t possibly fix everything, but it still made Tony feel so grateful that he was on the edge of tears again, this time from relief.

Tony had been beaten to a pulp, tortured, and nearly killed so many times he had lost count, but being completely alone was still the very worst thing he could think of.

 

~*~*~

 

Clint was the first to wake up the next morning, and he smiled softly at the way Tony and Phil were sandwiching him between them. Phil’s chest was warm and solid against his back, Phil’s arm around his waist, and Tony was curled up against Clint’s chest, his head tucked in under Clint’s chin and one hand tangled firmly in Clint’s t-shirt as if to keep him from being able to move away.

All three of them were wearing boxers and t-shirts at Phil’s suggestion, a reminder they didn’t really need that nothing was going to happen except sleeping, and the clothes combined with the warm bodies in front of and behind Clint had him feeling uncomfortably warm. The blanket that Phil had pulled over them before they settled down to sleep wasn’t helping even a little bit, and after a few moments Clint slowly and carefully lifted his hand off of Tony’s back to throw off the covers, breathing a sigh of relief at the immediate rush of cool air on his overheated skin.

Clint put his arm back around Tony, who made a soft low noise Clint could barely hear and tried to burrow even closer to Clint’s chest. Clint stroked Tony’s back, ducking his head to nuzzle the top of Tony’s head as he breathed out almost silently, “Shh, I’ve got you.”

Tony’s hands tightened on Clint’s shirt for a moment and then slowly relaxed as he slid deeper into sleep, and Clint smiled.

Phil kissed Clint’s shoulder a moment later, his arm tightening around Clint’s waist as he breathed out near his ear, “Go back to sleep, Clint. It’s still dark out.”

Clint could see the clock, which said it was after ten, so he knew the darkness in the room was completely JARVIS’ doing. He didn’t argue, though, instead whispering, “I will, babe.”

Phil made a low pleased noise and nuzzled the back of his neck, kissing the bare skin between Clint’s hair and the neck of his shirt, and then he settled down again, breathing slow and even again within a few moments.

Clint closed his eyes even though he wasn’t at all sleepy any more, making himself relax and slowing his breathing by matching the steady rhythm of Phil’s breath against his neck. He was just starting to think that maybe he _could_ sleep again when the room brightened slightly, making him open his eyes in surprise.

“I am very sorry to wake you, sirs,” JARVIS said apologetically, “but Director Fury is here and insists he must talk to Agent Coulson immediately. Miss Potts tried to convince him to wait for you to wake on your own, but I am afraid he will soon attempt to use force to reach your door and wake you himself. I am fully capable of stopping him, but I hesitate to do so without making an attempt to avoid the situation.”

Phil let out an exasperated breath and pulled away from Clint to roll out of bed and move to the dresser. “I’m coming, JARVIS, thank you. Tell him I need five minutes to get dressed, and that if he takes one step into that hallway I will shoot him myself.”

JARVIS sounded pleased as he said quietly, “I will, sir.”

“Why’s Fury storming into my house at dawn anyway?” Tony muttered, pulling away from Clint a little as he blinked blearily. “What’s he got his panties in a wad about this time, JARVIS? I don’t remember doing anything to piss him off this week.”

“It’s actually nearly eleven, sir,” JARVIS replied. “And he gained entry to the house because Miss Potts instructed me to let him in. As to what he is here about, he has not said, but from what I can discover from recent SHIELD traffic I have intercepted, I believe it may have something to do with a highly classified discovery in the Arctic that has both the military and SHIELD in an uproar. The military has tried to claim jurisdiction over something called ‘Lost Star’, but they were overruled and it was released into SHIELD’s custody late last night. ‘Lost Star’ will be delivered to SHIELD headquarters in three hours”

Phil whipped around, eyes wide. “Are you certain it was called the ‘Lost Star’, JARVIS?”

“Yes sir,” JARVIS replied, surprised. “Completely so.”

Phil dropped the sweats he had just pulled out of the dresser and started towards the door without another word, hurrying out and closing the door behind him even though Clint knew the idea of Pepper Potts seeing him in his boxers would have normally made Phil want to run away.

Clint and Tony looked at each other and then they were both scrambling out of bed while Tony asked, “What the hell is the Lost Star?”

“Damned if I know, but whatever it is, I’ve got a feeling we’re not going to find out unless we haul ass in there and listen in,” Clint said, waiting for Tony to roll off the bed and then following him, bending to grab his crutch out of the floor.

“We’ll know if they talk about it anywhere on my property,” Tony disagreed, already moving towards the door. “JARVIS monitors every square foot, including the showers, heating ducts, and in the bottom of the swimming pool.”

Clint laughed, quickly following Tony out of the room and down the hall towards the living room, where Phil was talking loudly enough they could already hear him.

“There have been teams looking for _seventy years_ , Nick. Where the hell _was_ he?”

“He was still in the plane, buried in an ice shelf that recently melted to the point that it was revealed,” Fury replied, grinning widely and looking so happy that Clint was just a little scared. He had never seen Fury look so happy and excited, and the whole concept made every instinct he had scream ‘danger’.

“The _whole plane_ was buried?” Phil asked, shocked. “It was _huge_.”

“The oil drilling crew that found it says the ice shelf used to be a quarter mile deeper, but over the last fifteen years it gradually began to melt away.” Fury paused and then added, “And they didn’t just find him, Cheese. He’s _alive_. When they thawed out what they thought was his body, he started _breathing_ and scared the hell out of the morgue techs. They got him into the nearest ICU and started monitoring him, and his life signs have been steadily improving for three days now. He’s in a medically induced coma until his vital signs stabilize completely, but the doctors say it will be safe to wake him some time tomorrow, and I need you back in New York before then. You know more about him than anyone I know of. If anyone can help him adjust to losing seventy years and everyone he ever knew, it’s you.”

Phil stared at Fury for a long moment and then turned to look at Clint and Tony. “We need to pack.”

Clint just stared in surprise, wondering why Fury had called Phil ‘Cheese’ even as he said, “Okay, sir.”

Phil turned his attention to Tony, adding, “You too, Tony.”

Clint looked at Tony, who just stood there silent for a moment before he asked suddenly, “Are you talking about Captain America? Steve Rogers, I mean?”

Clint looked back at Phil in surprise just as Phil nodded, grinning suddenly. “They _found him_ , Tony. He’s going to need all the help he can get adjusting to the way the world has changed.”

Tony stared at Phil for a moment and then suddenly grinned. “JARVIS! Tell the pilot to get my plane fueled up and ready to go, and get a truck full of interns down here to pack up the lab. We’re moving to New York.”

“Moving, sir?” JARVIS asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes, _moving_ ,” Tony said, looking over at Pepper, who had risen from her seat in one of the chairs and was staring at him, wide-eyed. “This house is yours, Pepper. Whip up the paperwork, I’ll sign whatever you need before we go. I’ll be staying at Stark Tower, in my penthouse. It’s not done, but there’s at least one livable room, I know. JARVIS will take good care of you, he’s already networked between the two so if you need anything he can reach me instantly. The suit can get me here faster than anything else on the planet.”

“Tony,” Pepper started, looking upset, but Tony lifted a hand to cut her off.

“Don’t, Pepper,” Tony said, giving her a smile that Clint saw didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “You said yourself last night that you need more space, so this is the best idea for both of us. I need to get out of here, get my head back on straight, and you need to take the reins of Stark Industries. You _are_ the CEO now, you don’t really need me around, you just think you do. The board will do what you tell them to do if you stop _asking_ and start telling them the way you make me do for you.”

“Tony, I don’t want you running off alone,” Pepper said quietly, lifting one hand to wipe at her shining eyes with an impatient flick of the wrist. “You need me.”

“I won’t be alone,” Tony said firmly, smiling a little wider as he looked at Phil. “Right?”

“I gave you my word, Tony,” Phil agreed, smiling warmly at Tony. “We’ll be there for you. We can even stay with you in the tower if you need it.”

Tony looked at Clint, who grinned and slung his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “You can keep me out of trouble while Phil’s trying not to geek out over his childhood hero coming back to life. I’m not allowed back in HQ until my stupid foot heals up anyway.”

Tony snickered, slinging an arm around Clint’s waist as he agreed cheerfully, “Sounds like fun to me. You can help me brainstorm, I’ve got all kinds of ideas for that team I’m not supposed to know about.”

“Awesome,” Clint said, looking back at Phil with a wide grin and acting like he didn’t see Fury’s stone-faced expression as he watched them, his eye narrowed in a way that usually meant Clint was about to get yelled at. “Let’s get this show on the road, sir. It’s a long flight back to New York.”

Phil nodded and moved towards Clint and Tony. “We’ll start with packing Tony’s bags. He’s got more clothes than both of us put together.”

Tony laughed. “Hey! I resemble that remark!”

Clint snickered and pulled away from Tony, giving him a shove back towards the hall. “You sure do, you _peacock_ , always strutting around in suits that cost more than I make in a _year_. It’ll take forever to get them all packed.”

Tony let Clint get him moving, heading towards his room as he said cheerfully, “All I need are my favorites, a few pairs of shoes, work jeans, and my vintage t-shirts. I’ve got duplicates of everything else on the jet or in my penthouse already.”

“That makes things much easier,” Phil said, pleased.

“Travel light, that’s my motto!” Tony said cheerfully. “I hate packing.”

They were nearly to Tony’s door when Fury spoke in the living room just loudly enough Clint could hear him. “Romanov, grab your stuff. You’re going back with me.”

Clint whirled around, not even using the crutch he was supposed to be leaning on as he blurted, “Oh _hell_ no!”

“What was that, Agent Barton?” Fury called angrily.

Phil moved to block Clint’s path, his hand lifting to Clint’s chest to keep him still as he gave Clint a quelling look. “Go help Tony pack, I’ll handle this.” Clint opened his mouth to argue, but Phil didn’t give him a chance to, saying firmly, “ _Now_ , Clint.”

Clint stared into Phil’s eyes for a moment and then nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.” He turned to continue towards Tony’s room, grabbing Tony’s arm with his free hand as he passed him. “Come on, Tony.”

Tony fought Clint’s pull for only an instant before he followed him, muttering, “He better know what he’s doing.”

“He always does,” Clint replied just as quietly, listening as Phil started walking quickly back towards the living room.

Tony was silent until they were in his room, then closed the door behind Clint and said sharply, “JARVIS, get me the feed. I want to know what Fury’s up to.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS agreed even as the windows darkened and the nearest one turned into a viewscreen, giving them an unobstructed view of the entire living room so large it was almost like they were still standing at the end of the hallway.

“Natasha is _my_ asset, Director,” Phil was saying calmly as he stopped near Fury. “She was assigned as protection detail for Miss Potts after the crisis with Iron Man ended and she will be needed here more than ever after Tony returns to New York with me. Removing her now is a bad decision and I can’t allow it.”

“Well, _I’m_ reassigning her,” Fury said, his voice cold. “She is part of the Initiative and I want her on hand to help with the Captain’s awakening tomorrow.”

“She’s needed more here,” Phil replied, his tone of voice hardening slightly. “Agent Carter can do whatever it is you have planned. She’s no assassin, but she’s very capable of handling Captain America. He’s not likely to ever raise a hand to a woman, and she knows his story as well as I do.”

Fury’s good eye narrowed further as he stepped towards Phil, obviously trying to use his superior height to intimidate him. “I am your commanding officer, Agent Coulson. You will follow _my_ orders, not the other way around.”

“I haven’t been a Ranger in years, _Nick_ , so think twice before you keep charging down the road you’re on,” Phil warned quietly. “Do you _really_ want to make an enemy out of three of the five members of your dream team?”

Fury scoffed, “You won’t be on the team.”

Phil smiled, cold and hard. “No, I won’t, but I feel very safe in saying that Clint, Natasha, and Tony will all back me on this.”

“Tell them I’m at Phil’s command, JARVIS,” Tony murmured. “I’d be pleased to do anything _Phil_ asks of me.”

“Master Stark is at your command, Agent Coulson,” JARVIS said in the living room, making Fury stiffen. “He would be very pleased to do anything _you_ ask of him, sir.”

Phil’s smile widened a fraction, his gaze never leaving Fury’s. ”Thank you, JARVIS.”

“You are most welcome, sir,” JARVIS replied. “Master Stark and I are both completely at your disposal.”

“Stark’s been listing to every word, hasn’t he?” Fury asked, expressionless.

“You _are_ in his home, Nick, trying to take away the protection detail on the one woman in the world that he loves,” Phil said quietly, giving Fury a disappointed look. “Did you _really_ think that he would let us discuss Miss Potts’ continuing safety without monitoring the situation?” He let out a soft snort. “I had thought you were smarter than that. I _know_ he is.”

Fury stared at Phil for a long moment and then turned towards Natasha and Pepper. “Fine, Romanov. You can stay here for now, but you _will_ return to New York one day very soon. Do I make myself clear?”

Natasha looked at Fury for a moment and then looked at Phil, who smiled and gave just a hint of a nod. Natasha looked back at Fury, giving him a cold smile. “Crystal, sir.”

Fury stared at her angrily for a long moment and then his gaze flicked to Pepper. “Miss Potts, it seems that it would be in the nation’s best interests for you to relocate to New York. Assistant Director Hill will be contacting you to begin the arrangements within the next week. Agents will be supplied to help with making the transition if you need them.”

“I thought _Phil_ was the Assistant Director of SHIELD,” Pepper said, frowning.

“He was,” Fury said coldly, looking at Phil again. “He has been busted back to field agent for gross insubordination, and may yet lose his job completely.”

Phil smirked slightly at Fury. “Do what you think you have to do, just keep in mind that if I go you just might find yourself with an Avengers team consisting of Captain America and Dr Banner.” Fury stiffened in anger as Phil looked at Pepper and Natasha, adding, “And becoming a field agent again was _my_ choice, Pepper. Fury has a habit of treating Clint and Natasha like easily replaceable tools instead of the very intelligent, capable agents they are. I don’t want them going out without me anymore unless I absolutely can’t avoid it, and I couldn’t be available for them like I should be while I was doing all of the day-to-day paperwork to keep SHIELD running smoothly.” He looked back at Fury again, giving him a bland smile. “Will that be all, Director?”

Fury glared at Phil for a long moment and then growled, “I want you at headquarters first thing tomorrow, Coulson. Leave your _boys_ at home, they won’t be needed.”

Phil’s eyes narrowed and his smile disappeared, his voice going cold and hard again as he said, “Watch it, Marcus. You are trying my patience.”

Fury stared into Phil’s eyes for a long moment and then muttered grudgingly, “Barton and Stark, then.”

“Better. And for the record, Clint _is_ mine and you would do well to remember that,” Phil said, “but Tony is merely a good friend. I will know exactly where any comments even _hinting_ otherwise came from, and I _will_ deal with them.” He paused and then added, “With extreme prejudice.”

Fury just looked at Phil for a few seconds before he pointed out quietly, “You _did_ sleep with him. He came out of your bedroom in his underwear.”

“He was drunk and needed supervision,” Phil said firmly, some of the cold anger gone from his voice. “I would do the same for any of my close friends.” He snorted. “As you should remember, since I’ve done the same for you a few times.”

Fury nodded, looking thoughtful. “You have. I owe you a lot.”

“Yes, you do,” Phil agreed, his usual bland calm back almost completely. “We’ve been working together since you were a wet behind the ears lieutenant fresh out of Ranger school, and you know exactly what I’m capable of.”

“I do,” Fury agreed, smiling slowly. “By now I should know better than to fight you when you dig your heels in.”

“You should,” Phil agreed. “The way you insist upon trying to fight me just proves that you still need supervision in some areas.”

Fury looked at him a moment longer and then turned away, starting towards the main entrance. “I’ll expect you at headquarters in the morning, Phil.”

“Sure, boss,” Phil agreed easily.

Fury waved a hand and continued on his way, leaving without another word.

“Oh my _God_ , Phil,” Pepper blurted after Fury was gone, staring at him wide-eyed. “You just told _Nick Fury_ where to go and _made him like it._ ”

“I believe so, yes.” Phil smirked. “I do love being me.” He nodded to Pepper. “I should go get Clint and Tony moving. I doubt they’re doing anything but watching us, and that definitely won’t get Tony’s things packed.”

Pepper laughed softly, giving Phil a wondering, almost awed look. “I’ll go arrange a truck to move the Iron Man suits and the robots from the lab out to the airfield. I can ship most of the rest to arrive tomorrow, but I know Tony will want to take his robots and the armor on the plane with him.”

“Thank you, Pepper, I’m sure he’ll be very grateful,” Phil agreed, still smirking as he turned to walk back towards the hallway that led to Tony’s room.

Pepper turned towards Natasha then, still wide-eyed, and murmured, “ _Wow_.”

Natasha grinned, open and happy in a way that made her look beautiful as she said impishly, “Now you know why he’s my hero.”

Pepper let out a very girlish giggle, nodding.

“You can turn it off now, JARVIS,” Tony said, and when Clint looked at him he saw that Tony looked pretty awed too. Tony turned his head towards Clint suddenly then, murmuring, “I never saw _anyone_ be that impressive in his jockey shorts before.” Clint laughed and Tony added, “I mean, I know Phil can be terrifyingly competent in that Dolce suit and sunglasses of his, but I thought at least half of that was the kick-ass suit.”

“Phil loves his Dolce suits, but he doesn’t _need_ them,” Clint said, grinning widely. “The bad-ass is all him, not the clothes.”

“You lucky bastard,” Tony said, still looking kind of awed as he started to grin. “I’m glad he’s on our side.”

The bedroom door opened, but Clint pretended not to hear it, grinning at Tony. “Like I told you, Tony, Phil’s got your back just like I do.”

“I do,” Phil agreed, walking into Tony’s room and closing the door behind him. “And right now that means I’m going to make you both get your butts in gear. We have a lot to do today.”

Clint looked at Phil, grinning. “Time to bug out, sir?”

“In a word, yes,” Phil agreed, smirking. “We’ve got a friend waiting for us in New York. He doesn’t know it yet, but he is going to need all three of us, I think.”

“Then we’d better get to New York,” Tony said, grinning as he moved towards his closet. “Where’s my luggage, JARVIS?”

“In your closet, sir,” JARVIS replied dryly, amused. “Where it belongs, if you can imagine such a concept.”

Tony laughed, disappearing into the closet. “God, you’re such a smartass.”

“I don’t have to be, sir,” JARVIS said, and then suddenly a completely different voice was speaking, and Clint started snickering as he recognized the voice of VIKI from the ‘ _I, Robot’_ movie. “Shall I engage secondary voice protocols?”

“Oh hell no,” Tony said with a laugh, “Get your Brit on and snark at me, baby. I spent months teaching you how to sass me for a reason.”

“Very well, sir,” JARVIS said, back to normal and sounding just a bit smug. “The pilot wishes me to pass along that the earliest take-off time he was offered is two-fifteen. Will that be suitable, or should he begin calling in favors?”

Tony stuck his head back out of the closet, looking questioningly at Phil. “Well?”

“Two-fifteen is fine, JARVIS, thank you,” Phil said, smiling as he moved towards Tony’s dresser. “That will allow us time to pack, dress, and grab a bite to eat.”

“Speaking of eating,” Tony said as he moved back into the closet, “call Hannah and find out if she’s available.”

“Already done, sir,” JARVIS said smugly. “Chef Hannah is leaving her flat as we speak and would like to know what you want her to pick up for dinner.”

“Always a step ahead of me, JARVIS,” Tony said, sounding pleased. “What would you guys like, Phil? Clint? Hannah’s good, she can make anything from amazing burgers all the way up to the most fussy French thing you can think of.”

Clint looked at Phil, smiling as he moved to the bed and sat down. “You know I’m easy, sir. As long as it’s cooked, I can handle it.”

Phil chuckled, lifting a stack of t-shirts out of Tony’s dresser and then moving towards Clint with them as he said, “Surf and turf would be nice, Tony, if you don’t mind steak again so soon. Yours yesterday looked so good that I’ve been wanting one myself since I saw it, and it would be a shame not to have some of the local seafood when we’re soon going to be back in New York.”

“Nah, I love steak, and you’re totally right about the seafood. The stuff in New York just doesn’t taste the same,” Tony said cheerfully, coming out of the closet with a suitcase and a duffle bag that he carried to the bed. “You heard the man, JARVIS. Have Hannah get us some Dungeness crabs and whatever is fresh and beautiful at her favorite fishmonger, and you cut us some amazing steaks and get them in a cooler so we can take them along to be ready for her to do her magic on them for us tonight. When we get to New York we’ll buy her a first class ticket to wherever she wants to go, or she can stay at the tower, or whatever she wants. Tell her it’s a bonus for always making herself available on such short notice.”

“Very good, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding pleased.

Tony threw the duffle on the bed next to Clint and dropped the suitcase in the floor, grinning. “Okay, so, this is the part where Pepper usually chases me out and packs for me, so...  What next?”

Phil let out a snort of a laugh. “Next you go in the closet and get anything you can’t possibly live without, so Clint and I can pack it for you.”

Clint opened the duffle, blinking when it unrolled into a garment bag, and then he laughed. “Suits and ties first, Tony.”

“Got it,” Tony said cheerfully, heading back into the closet.

Phil chuckled and knelt in the floor by the suitcase, putting the stack of shirts down next to him as he said, “I can pack for Tony, sweetheart, if you want to go start on our things.”

“Whatever you want, sir,” Clint said easily.

Phil looked up at Clint as he got the suitcase open, smiling. “Please?”

“Of course,” Clint agreed, sliding off the bed and leaning to kiss Phil thoroughly. “I’m claiming a shower with you right now though, once everything is packed.”

Phil’s smile widened as he looked down, beginning to put Tony’s t-shirts neatly into the suitcase. “Good, that saves me the trouble of dragging you in with me. Now go get busy.”

“Yes sir,” Clint agreed, grabbing his crutch and hauling himself to his feet. He headed for the door, grinning and already thinking about the shower.

Looked like he was getting laid that morning after all.

 

~*~*~

 

Tony brought Phil the last of the shoes he wanted to take and then sat on the bed by his garment bag to watch Phil neatly tucking them into the suitcase. Phil had obviously packed many times before, and in a hurry too because he had everything tucked away in just a few moments. When he looked up at Tony, giving him a warm smile, Tony asked suddenly, “Why are you helping me?”

Phil’s lips twitched like he wanted to laugh. “I have a feeling if I didn’t, I’d come back in an hour and find you neck-deep in something else with nothing packed, or with it all packed so poorly you ended up needing to replace it.”

“I don’t mean that,” Tony said quickly, “even though yeah, you’re totally right, I wouldn’t have the first clue how to do it, not right anyway, so I’d probably ruin something, but what I meant was why are you helping _me_?”

Phil smiled and said gently, “Because you _deserve_ to be helped, Tony.”

Tony was very still for a moment and then murmured softly, “I didn’t do anything to earn it.”

“You did, Tony,” Phil disagreed. “You’ve been beaten, tortured, and emotionally abused, and yet you still come back every time more determined than ever to fight for everyone but yourself. You have a good heart, and I don’t mean this.” He lifted his hand to tap the arc reactor and Tony couldn’t keep from flinching away, which made Phil look pained for an instant before he managed to hide it. “Anyone who doesn’t see how amazing you are isn’t worth your time, and you shouldn’t listen to anything they have to say about you.”

Tony swallowed hard. “I try not to, but some days it gets to me anyway.”

“Well, when it does, come to me, or to Clint,” Phil said firmly. “You have friends who know better, who see the man you’ve fought so hard to hide for so long, and we don’t mind reminding you of that when you need it.” He smiled again. “Or holding you, for that matter. Clint and I are still getting used to being held whenever we want to be, so we remember better than most what it’s like to need that and not have it.”

“I feel like I’m, well, like I’m asking too much,” Tony said quietly. “You and Clint, you shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“We don’t _have to_ ,” Phil pointed out reasonably. “Fury wanted me to control you and for Clint to study you, as I’m sure you know, but I decided before I ever told Clint we were coming out here that it wasn’t going to happen like Fury wanted it to. You _can_ be completely infuriating when you want to be, Tony, and you’re quite capable of making me consider slipping a few tranquilizers in your coffee, but that’s never been something I couldn’t cope with.” He grinned suddenly. “Clint _is_ my partner, after all, and has been for much longer than the few weeks we’ve been sleeping together. I’m very used to being around a hyper, intelligent man who seldom holds still for long unless he’s too tired to do anything else.”

Tony’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s only been a few weeks?”

“Since we began sleeping together, yes,” Phil said, amused. “Our feelings for each other have been rather obvious for over a year going by when the betting pool began, but Clint hesitated to take the next step and I didn’t want to push him.” His smile shifted into something more wistful, even wry. “I knew I loved Clint long before he began to feel the same way, and I cherish his trust and friendship too much to ever endanger them by asking him for anything he didn’t offer to me freely. It’s difficult for him to give his trust, and even more difficult for him to give his heart, so I was glad to accept what he offered and know I had more than he gave to anyone else in the world except Natasha.”

“I read his file,” Tony admitted. “Yesterday. Some of the things he said while we were talking made me want to know the whole story.”

“Much of it isn’t in there,” Phil said with a sad smile. “Clint doesn’t trust anyone at SHIELD except myself and Tasha, and even we don’t know all of his secrets. It would very nearly break him to have to relive them enough to speak about some of them, I think, and others he doesn’t share because he’s ashamed of them.”

“Is it true that his brother killed both of his parents and then later nearly killed him?” Tony asked, curious.

“Yes, it is,” Phil replied, nodding. “Clint was six and Barney was nine when Barney ‘accidentally’ set fire to their house one night after their drunken father beat him particularly badly and then passed out. Barney got Clint out before he ever started the fire, tucking him into a neighbor’s tree house with their dog and a blanket, but their parents both burned alive.” He paused, almost as if he were deciding how much to share, and then added more quietly, “Barney hurt Clint often when they were young, always with the excuse that it was because Clint did something to make him, but Clint idolized him anyway because he had never known anyone who treated him better. That set a disturbing precedent for many of Clint’s closest relationships until well after I became his handler, but over the years I have succeeded in convincing him _and_ Natasha that they are both entirely too special to give their time to anyone who would deliberately hurt them.”

“Damn,” Tony murmured, wondering how Clint could be as open and as easy-going as he was. He had known Clint had tough things in his past he didn’t talk about, that had been obvious, but he had gotten the idea it was mostly things Clint had been through as an agent for SHIELD, not as a small child. Tony’s own childhood had been pretty crappy a lot of the time, but emotional neglect just wasn’t the same as being beaten so often that it seemed _normal_. Just the idea of tiny six-year-old Clint (and Clint _had_ to be tiny then, he wasn’t very tall even as an adult) being beaten by not only his father but also by the older brother he idolized made Tony’s heart ache for the childhood Clint never really had. Tony had hated his father for making him feel like he was an invention that didn’t go exactly as planned, but at least his dad had never hurt him physically, and his mom had made sure he knew she loved him when she had time for him between charity fundraisers, banquets, and parties with her friends.

The door opened suddenly, making Tony and Phil both look at it in surprise as Clint leaned in, smiling. “What do you want me to leave out for you to wear today, Phil? Something casual, or a suit?”

“Casual, please,” Phil replied immediately, giving Clint a warm smile. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

Clint smirked, wicked and teasing. “I’ll be waiting, sir.”

Phil laughed slightly. “Just go get done.”

“Yes sir,” Clint agreed, still smirking as he disappeared again, closing the door.

“Why does he do that?” Tony asked, changing the subject to another one he’d been curious about but hadn’t wanted to ask Clint. Phil looked at him in surprise and Tony added, “Call you ‘sir’, I mean. I _know_ why he flirts with you. I saw what you keep hidden under those suits, which is pretty impressive by the way, you must work out a _lot_ , but I can’t decide if he’s just that much of a sub or if it’s something completely different.”

Phil laughed slightly, looking kind of pleased as he glanced down at the suitcase to close it. “It actually started right after we met.” He fastened the buckles on the suitcase and then looked back up at Tony, smiling. “Clint had a serious problem with the whole idea of taking orders when Fury threw him at me, especially from anyone at SHIELD, and I, well, I _earned_ my rank and I expected him to show me some respect no matter what anyone else had done to him. I insisted on him calling me ‘sir’ then, badgering him about it until he finally did, and then he kept doing it even after I told him about a year ago that I didn’t expect that from him anymore. I tried to get him to stop again after he finally admitted how he feels about me, but he’s decided he likes it and I see no reason to argue with him about it.” Phil laughed slightly, looking fond and very amused. “He still doesn’t call anyone _else_ ‘sir’ without a fight. It’s been a running joke for almost two years among the other agents that if Clint says the word ‘sir’, he must be talking to me.”

Tony grinned. “I think I’m disappointed in you both. I had all these mental images of him on his knees in a collar.” He grinned wider. “ _Nice_ mental images, you lucky dog, you.”

“No, that’s not happening,” Phil said with a laugh, looking just a little smug. “He does like having me in charge of the things he doesn’t want to bother with, and he calls me ‘sir’ a lot of the time and lets me give him orders, but that’s as far as it goes. I know him well enough that I don’t ask him for much unless I know he wants to give it to me, so I probably shouldn’t be surprised that it looks like he’s much more submissive than he actually is, but I’m not his dom the way you think. He doesn’t need or want someone to control him that completely.”

“You do like being in control, though,” Tony pointed out, smiling at Phil.

“Well, yes,” Phil agreed with a wry smile, “but it’s mostly myself I want control over, not Clint. I only expect him to obey me when going his own way could get him hurt, and he knows it.”

“I get that,” Tony agreed, nodding, then he reached out and gave Phil’s shoulder a little push. “Go on, man. He’s waiting for you. You got the packing done, and I can figure out how to shower and dress myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Phil agreed with a smile as he stood up. “Feel free to take your time. Clint has plans for our shower, so we might be a while.”

“He’s a smart guy,” Tony agreed, smirking as he waved a hand at Phil. “Go on, get out of here. Go get laid.”

Phil laughed, blushing slightly as he left without another word.

Tony’s smirk disappeared and he just sat there for a minute or two, breathing slowly and fighting down a wave of jealously that almost made him shake with wanting what Clint and Phil had until JARVIS murmured gently, “You will find the right woman, sir, or I will find her for you. I have given you my word, and you know I was programmed to keep my promises.”

Tony lifted his gaze to the camera above his bed, smiling slightly as he forced down his jealousy and the bone-deep loneliness that had sparked it. “I’ll be glad to accept your help, JARVIS, but I think I’ve decided to take a walk on the wild side for a while. No girls for me until further notice.”

“I will keep that in mind as long as you do, sir,” JARVIS replied with a hint of amusement clear in his voice. “Your current plans for the future will lead to you meeting many new people, including one you’ve adored from afar for a very long time.”

Tony stood, moving towards his bathroom. “Hey, who knows? Maybe it _will_ be him. Aunt Peggy always said he was the most amazing man that ever lived, even if he was too oblivious to know he was in love with his best friend until it was too late.”

“Anything is possible, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding much more amused. “He _was_ your first crush.”

“That guy Thor is hot too, though,” Tony said, smirking suddenly. “That footage you stole from SHIELD was pretty awesome. He looks damn good wet.”

“And of course that _is_ the most important part of any lasting relationship, sir,” JARVIS said dryly.

“Maybe not,” Tony admitted as he stripped out of his shirt and the boxers he had slept in the night before, “but I’m shallow, we know this, and I love a hot body. Sleek curves and a nice set of tail lights gets me every time.”

“I’ve noticed, sir.”

“Of course you have,” Tony agreed cheerfully, stepping towards the shower as four of the nine jets inside it turned on. He paused at the door, watching as the temperature readout on the glass rapidly surged upwards until it settled on ninety-eight, and then he stepped inside. He smiled as he moved into the spray, letting out a low pleased purr before he murmured, “Perfect, as always.”

“I do try, sir,” JARVIS said just loudly enough for Tony to hear him, making Tony grin at the hint of smugness in his voice. “Would you like your usual music?”

“Nah, surprise me, babe,” Tony said, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he relaxed under the pounding spray. “I trust you.”

“Very well, sir,” JARVIS replied, and then a moment later a song began to play as the shower jet above and behind Tony turned on and began to massage his shoulders.

Tony let his head fall forward with a smile as he listened to the song, wondering what made JARVIS decide to go with something as bouncy as Hoku’s ‘ _Burrito Song’_ for only a few moments before the chorus began to play and he grinned.

_“How do I feel, ever since I walked away from you? I miss you for real, every day of my life. How do I feel, now that it's over? Well the thing that I miss the most, is missing you.”_

“Cute, JARVIS,” Tony said, lifting his head to look towards the camera in the upper corner of the shower. “Next you’ll be playing _‘I Hate Everything About You’_.”

“I rather thought ‘ _She Hates Me’_ would be more appropriate, sir,” JARVIS replied, amused.

Tony laughed. “She does not!”

“Of course not, sir,” JARVIS agreed easily enough, “but the other lyrics _are_ rather apt.”

“Hell, cue it up,” Tony said, reaching for the shampoo. “I can handle some Mudd this morning.”

JARVIS changed songs without a word, and Tony couldn’t keep from grinning as he began to sing along.

“ _Met a girl, thought she was grand. Fell in love, found out first hand. It went well for a week or two, then it all, came unglued!”_

 

~*~*~

 

Clint followed Phil into HQ, wearing his favorite jeans with a Ranger shirt that might have been his own (he _had_ earned one) but wasn’t and half of his oldest pair of combat boots on his uninjured foot, greatly enjoying the way people were doing a double-take when they saw Phil. He snuck a glance a Phil and then looked ahead of them again as they approached the security desk next to the plas-steel door between the lobby and the bank of elevators, unable to keep a smug grin off his face.

Phil was dressed in one of his usual suits and carrying a rather large Stark Tower thermos of JARVIS’ most recent effort at the perfect mug of coffee, which was so good it had made Phil make noises that he usually reserved for when he was having _very_ good sex. The suit wasn’t why people were staring at Phil, though, or even the thermos. It was the way Phil was smiling, looking pleased with life and himself in a way that Clint had gotten used to recently, but that he hadn’t really expected to see at work any more than the people they worked with did. Phil’s usual unshakably bland calm was still there, of course, Clint knew that as well as he knew his own name, but evidently seeing Phil look _happy_ was enough to worry pretty much everyone they had passed so far.

Phil stopped at the security desk, smiling at the woman behind it as he said, “Good morning, Agent Yolen.”

Agent Yolen blinked, looking surprised but kind of pleased. “Good morning, sir. I gather your mission went well?”

“You gather right,” Phil replied. “How’s the family? Did Michael finally make it onto the soccer team?”

Agent Yolen smiled wider. “He did, sir, thank you for asking.”

“I’m sure you’re very proud,” Phil said, still smiling. “Is the Director in yet this morning?”

“Yes sir,” Agent Yolen said quickly, nodding.

“Wonderful.” Phil smiled a bit wider. “Have a good day, Agent Yolen.”

“You too, sir,” Agent Yolen said quickly.

“Thank you,” Phil said, smiling and he moved towards the door.

Clint moved to follow him, nodding to Agent Yolen and expecting to be let through like he usually was, but she said quickly, “Agent Barton! I’m afraid I can’t let you in, sir.”

Clint stopped and turned back towards Agent Yolen, aware that Phil had stopped too. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but no,” Agent Yolen said firmly, the friendliness she had shown Phil almost completely gone. “All of the receptionists received orders yesterday that you’re not to be allowed in the building until Director Fury himself says differently.”

“I can’t even go to _my quarters_?” Clint asked, frowning.

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Agent Yolen said. “Director Fury left explicit instructions not to let you past the lobby, and to call security if you wouldn’t leave peacefully.”

Phil moved over to Agent Yolen’s desk, reaching for her phone without a word and punching in a four-digit code. He waited for someone to pick up and then said firmly, “I need to speak to Director Fury, Clare.” He paused and then said a bit more sharply, “I’m sure he _is_ busy, but I need to talk to him anyway. Now.”

Clint moved closer so he could eavesdrop on the other side of the conversation just in time to hear Hill’s familiar voice come on the line. “This is Assistant Director Hill. Director Fury is very busy right now, Agent Coulson.”

“Why has Barton’s access been revoked?” Phil asked, annoyed.

“He’s still on medical leave,” Hill replied, her tone of voice hardening slightly. “He has no good reason to be here.”

“So _you_ did this,” Phil growled.

“I did, but Director Fury agreed with me completely,” Hill said. “Barton has no reason to be here.”

“This is _ridiculous_ , Hill. You’ve been holding a grudge against Clint for over a _year_ because he was right and you were wrong on that last op you did with him, even though it’s not his fault you made a mistake,” Phil said firmly. “Let me talk to Director Fury.”

“I told you, he’s too busy for this,” Hill said. “Barton packed his bags and _you_ changed his contact information to show he was living with you now, so he has no reason to be here.”

“He packed for a _mission_ , Hill,” Phil said pointedly. “He didn’t move his personal belongings out of his quarters yet.”

“I’ll have a junior agent pack his things and deliver them to Stark Tower,” Hill said dismissively. “That _is_ where you are staying, correct?”

Phil took a deep breath, something Clint recognized as Phil’s last-ditch attempt to get control of his temper, and then said calmly, “Agent Hill, put me through to Fury _now_.”

“No sir, I will not,” Hill said sharply. “And that’s _Assistant Director Hill_ to you, Agent Coulson.”

“Yes, you will,” Phil said, still sounding entirely too calm to go with the angry look in his eyes. “Don’t forget who I am, Hill. I may have given up the job you’re so proud to have, but I did so because I have more important things to do, not for whatever reason Fury has spun around it to try to knock me down a peg _._ ”

Hill was silent for a long moment and then she said angrily, “Fine. On your head be it.”

“It always is,” Phil replied, still managing somehow to sound calm despite the cold look in his eyes.

There was a short pause and then suddenly Fury said angrily, “I do _not_ have time for your crap right now, Phil.”

“Make time,” Phil said just a bit sharply. “I want Barton’s access reinstated.”

“No, I told you not to bring him today! He’s on medical leave and there’s no reason for him to be here,” Fury said firmly. “ _Especially_ right now. I don’t want him sticking his insubordinate nose into this. It’s bad enough I’m letting _you_ in the building.”

Phil rolled his eyes, suddenly looking much less angry. “Clint doesn’t _care_ about your special project, Nick. He just wants to pack up his things so he will never have to go back to that glorified cell he’s been living in.”

Fury was quiet for a long moment and then said, “Fine, but on one condition.”

“Which would be?” Phil asked warily.

“I want your word that you will supervise him every minute he’s in the building, and that he will be gone permanently by _noon_ ,” Fury said. “If that means you miss out on what’s going on today, it’s on your head.”

Clint snorted and muttered, “I don’t have that much crap. I could get it all by noon _by myself_.”

Phil glanced at Clint, amused. “You have a deal, Director. Here’s Agent Yolen. She’s working the front desk today.”

Phil pulled the phone away from his ear to offer it to Agent Yolen, whose eyes went wide as she took it and put it to her ear. Her back stiffened a moment later as she said quickly, “Yes sir, I understand! I’ll let him in just this once.” She paused and then looked shocked. “Oh, uhm, thank you, sir! I was just doing my job.” She blushed suddenly, listening for a few moments. “Of course, sir. I’ll tell him.” She hung up the phone then and looked back up at Phil and Clint. “You can both go through, Agent Coulson, but Agent Barton still doesn’t have access. Director Fury wanted me to tell you if he tries to open any door in the building outside of his assigned quarters, security countermeasures will be triggered and he’ll spend a month in the brig.”

Clint looked at Phil, grinning. “Oh yeah, he still __loves_ _ me.”

Phil gave Clint an amused look before he turned his gaze back to Agent Yolen, smiling. “Thank you, Agent Yolen. If you would please buzz the door?”

“Of course, sir,” Agent Yolen said, reaching for the button but not yet pushing it.

“Have a good day,” Phil said with a nod, then turned and walked quickly towards the door.

Clint moved after Phil again, easily settling into his usual place at Phil’s right shoulder despite his crutches, and he was glad to see the plas-steel door opened with a quiet _whoosh_ when they reached it. He followed Phil through and to the elevators, waiting until they were alone inside one before he murmured, “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to get disappeared real soon?”

“You’re not,” Phil replied just as quietly, looking at Clint. “You’ve just been reassigned, effective from the date the Lost Star was discovered. You are no longer an asset, Clint.” Clint knew that Phil was being careful because the agents in security that worked the surveillance cameras in the elevators didn’t have the clearance to know about the Avengers or Captain America. “We both have new jobs, actually. Fury will still call us in at need, but we are no longer based out of headquarters and I have no doubt that I’ll soon be ordered to clear out my office as well. I don’t rate a private office with a secretary anymore, so it will go to another senior agent, most likely Sitwell. He’s doing very well as a handler, and has been with SHIELD for almost as long as I have so he may well assume my previous job overseeing many of the less senior handlers and their assets.”

Clint was quiet for a moment, just looking at Phil, and then asked very softly, “Tell me you wanted this, that it’s worth it to you. To lose your seniority over me, I mean.”

“I haven’t lost my seniority,” Phil said, giving Clint a reassuring smile, “and _nothing_ that has happened is your fault, sweetheart, I promise. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am, and my new job is exactly what I’ve wanted since I learned it was going to be a possibility. I think it’s very safe to say that no one else in SHIELD is as prepared for it as I am.”

Clint gazed into Phil’s eyes for a moment and then smiled slowly. “Or as popular with at least half of your new team.”

“I am very popular, it’s true,” Phil murmured, leaning in to kiss Clint just as the elevator doors opened with a soft ‘bing’.

“Agent Coulson, _must_ you?” Hill said sharply, sounding annoyed.

Phil pulled away from Clint, just gazing into his eyes for a long moment before he finally turned his attention to Hill to give her a bland smile. She was waiting for them just outside the elevator with two very large male junior agents looming behind her that stood at ease in a way that made it plain to Clint’s practiced eye that they were both ex-military, one of them obviously a good ten years older than the other. The older agent was smiling and looked amused while the younger one gave Clint a subtle thumb’s up, making Clint grin.

“Yes actually, I must,” Phil said almost cheerfully. “You should try it sometime, Maria. I believe it would do you a world of good.”

That startled a laugh out of Clint, who quickly stifled it, not looking directly at Hill even though he did watch her out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction. If he looked at her with the grin he couldn’t quite wipe off of his face, she was sure to give him some kind of punishment detail. She would likely rather punish Phil, of course, but she couldn’t do that if he hadn’t lost his seniority when he left the Assistant Director position. Phil had been her training supervisor and then handler for the first two years after she was headhunted from the CIA, and traditions almost as strong as law said she couldn’t assign punishment details to the man who trained her, whether she was the Assistant Director or not.

Hill was glaring at Phil, a slight flush high on her cheeks as she said coldly, “Red light, Agent Coulson. There will be a sexual harassment seminar in your immediate future.”

“Wonderful,” Phil said with a wide smile. “I can always use a nap these days, thank you.” He started forward, forcing Hill to move aside or physically block his path, and Clint’s grin widened at how she quickly stepped aside, staying out of Phil’s personal space. Clint followed Phil in his usual place near Phil’s shoulder, careful not to hit Phil with his crutches. “I doubt you are here just to scold me for kissing my fiancé, Agent Hill,” Phil added, “so why are you lurking outside elevators this fine morning?”

Clint had to work at it to keep his expression from changing at that, wondering when Phil decided they were getting married. Marrying Phil was very high on the list of things he wanted to do before he died so it was definitely good news, but it would have been nice to be the first to know that Phil was on the same page.

“I am the Assistant Director, Agent Coulson, and you _will_ show me some respect!” Hill demanded, and Clint looked back to see her hurrying after them with the junior agents following along behind her. Both of the junior agents looked kind of shocked to Clint, though the older of the two was hiding his feelings much better than the younger one.

Phil let out a huff, amused. “Very well, _Assistant Director_. To what do we owe the somewhat dubious pleasure of your __company today?”

Clint glanced back at Hill again and had to bite his lip not to snicker at how angry she looked. He had pissed her off pretty much every time he spoke to her since Fury had introduced her to him as his new handler not long after he joined SHIELD, but he wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ seen her so angry before, not even the day she dragged him into Fury’s office by the ear and told Fury to reassign him or she was going to kill him. There was a muscle twitching in her jaw, and her dark eyes were _glittering_ with something he thought just might be hatred.

“I am here, Agent Coulson,” Hill said coldly, “to be certain Barton is supervised while he packs and gets the hell out of my building.”

Phil laughed. “Fury must have greatly reduced the Assistant Director’s duties since I stepped down, to give you so much time to waste. I’ve already agreed to supervise him myself, Assistant Director, and I assure you I’m _quite_ capable of keeping Clint out of trouble.”

Hill sounded like she was clenching her teeth as she actually _growled_ and then said angrily, “Unlike my predecessor, I don’t spend all my time being a glorified _secretary_ because I don’t know how to delegate authority, and I _also_ know better than to trust any agent who makes a habit of disobeying direct orders from their superiors, including you, Agent Coulson.”

They reached Clint’s quarters then and Phil moved to the retinal scanner, letting it scan his eye while he said, “Only the stupid orders, Assistant Director.”

The door chimed and then a male voice said, “Welcome, Agent Coulson. Agent Barton is not in today, do you want to leave a message?”

The computer’s voice was so completely toneless and dead that it made Clint miss JARVIS suddenly. The SHIELD security system was computer-controlled, but it had only limited voice recognition abilities and was completely incapable of making decisions that fell outside its programming. There was always at least one agent in the main control room, watching the screen and telling the computer what to do because Fury didn’t trust anyone outside SHIELD to program them a new system

“No,” Phil replied, “Open the door.”

The door slid open without further hesitation and then Phil smiled warmly at Clint. “Go on in, Clint.”

“Of course, sir,” Clint agreed, moving inside and then turning to look back at the group in the hall because he didn’t want to miss anything.

Phil had moved to block Hill’s path into Clint’s quarters and sounded very bland and calm as he said, “As I am sure you’re aware, _Assistant Director_ , Agent Barton, like any other agent, is completely free to designate who is allowed into his private quarters. Agent Barton has added just two names to his personal access list, and you are definitely not either myself or Agent Romanov.”

Hill drew herself up to her full height as if she wasn’t almost a foot shorter than the agents looming behind her. “There is _nowhere_ in this building that’s forbidden to _me_ , Agent Coulson _._ I am the Assistant Director.”

“I’m afraid that when you have been more properly briefed on your job you’ll find that’s not at all true, Assistant Director,” Phil said calmly, sounding just a bit amused. “I have more seniority than you do and a higher clearance level as well last I checked, and I have never seen the inside of _many_ rooms in this building despite the fact I was made Assistant Director when I turned down Fury’s job after Director Johnson’s unexpected death. You’re quite welcome to try the door yourself, though, if you still prefer to learn the hard way like you did as a trainee.” Hill just stared at him, looking shocked and seemingly speechless as the glitter in her eyes grew more pronounced, and after a moment Phil turned his attention to the agents behind her. “Agent Lewiston, Agent Roy, if you don’t mind, could you please retrieve the stack of empty file boxes waiting in my office? It will speed up this whole process and let us all move on with our day more quickly.”

“Of course, Agent Coulson,” the older of the two agents said immediately, giving Phil a respectful nod before he and his shadow both hurried back down the hall towards the elevator.

Phil waited for them to get completely out of earshot and then looked back at Hill, saying much more gently, “Maria, I know you’re proud of your promotion and you should be, you’re the youngest Assistant Director in history, but I can’t say that I’m at all impressed with your behavior today. I feel I’ve been talking to the cocky, stubborn rookie that Director Johnson introduced to me a long time ago and told me to turn into an agent worthy of SHIELD, not the competent woman who has become such an integral part of SHIELD over the last few years.”

Hill’s shock was slowly draining away, and it seemed to take her anger with it, leaving her with a lost, almost broken expression. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to step into the shoes of the man who _trained_ _me_ , sir?” she asked after a moment, and Clint realized finally that it wasn’t hate he had seen in her eyes but ruthlessly quashed tears. “Especially when you’re treating me like I’m some stupid little girl who doesn’t know which end is up? It’s going to be all over the building in an hour that you think I’m a _joke_.”

Phil sighed. “I’m sorry, Maria. I’m afraid I took my anger at Fury out on you because you were being so thoroughly annoying. You know as well as anyone that I don’t take well to being scolded like I tracked mud on the carpets, and you both took it too far this morning by making comments and threats you are quite aware I will not allow to pass by unremarked.” He stepped back, gesturing for Hill to come into Clint’s quarters. “Come inside, please. We should talk.”

Hill looked at him for a moment and then walked into Clint’s quarters, ignoring Clint completely as she asked, “Is it true I still don’t have full clearance?”

Phil closed the door and then walked over towards Clint as he said dryly, “Maria, my clearance is only one level below Fury’s, but even _he_ doesn’t have full clearance. I can get into many more places than most, but I have access to the personal quarters of exactly two people in this building, and both of them will very soon be living elsewhere.” Phil put one arm around Clint when he reached him, and Clint smiled as he shifted to lean against Phil’s side. Phil returned the smile and then looked back at Hill. “My clearance on paper will remain level twelve, I’m sure, if only because I already know more than anyone in the building except for Fury and possibly Natasha, but I fully expect to find the computers have been instructed to lock me out of many places I used to be able to access easily.”

“They have,” Hill agreed, folding her arms against her belly and looking unhappy. “Director Fury changed your access last night when he returned from California.” She paused and then asked, “Is this room secure?”

“From everyone but Fury, yes,” Phil said with a nod. “Unless of course he’s changed that while I’ve been gone. If you want to be completely private I’m afraid we would have to move our discussion to Fury’s meeting room. It’s the only room in the building without active surveillance.”

Hill looked nauseated suddenly. “Not even the _restrooms_ , sir?”

“I’m afraid not, Maria,” Phil replied. “SHIELD agents sign an agreement to be under surveillance at all times under the discretion of the Director, and Fury took that literally when he was given the position. Every room in the building has at least one camera in it, and all public-access areas have multiple views to cover every inch of the room.”

“That’s just _wrong,”_ Hill said with a shudder, then looked up at the ceiling as she added more loudly, “If you’re watching people in the _bathrooms_ , Nick, I want you to know the day I catch you doing it will be the last day you _ever_ get in my pants!”

Clint had already suspected that Fury promoted Hill because he could control her more easily than Phil, and he was feeling a little smug about being right as he snickered at her threat. Fury was usually very discrete about who he was sleeping with but Clint had noticed Fury had a soft spot for Hill years ago, and knowing they were actually together made him wonder just how long it had been going on. While most agents at her level of seniority were out working in the field or in undercover operations, Hill had been assigned to headquarters since just before Clint met Phil, steadily making her way up the ladder into a position of power that quite a few people didn’t think she had earned. Clint could only image how much more disgruntled Hill’s detractors must be now that she was Assistant Director, since they had already been thoroughly annoyed by her rapid rise to being head of security.

“He hasn’t got time to get nosy very often,” Phil pointed out with amusement, distracting Clint from his thoughts. “I have no doubt he’s watching us now if he can possibly manage it, but there are too many rooms in this building for him to watch them all, or even very many of them.”

Hill gave the ceiling a dirty look and said loudly, “Pervert.” She let out a little huff and then straightened her shoulders, seeming to drag her mind back on track as she turned her attention back to Phil. “Nick told me that you’re going to be the handler for the Avengers Initiative, sir. Is that still happening?”

“Yes, it is,” Phil said, amused. “Clint and Natasha won’t accept anyone else as their handler, and Tony Stark has made it plain he agrees with them completely.” He paused and then added, “And at this point, I believe an exceptional team of heroes will come together under my direction whether Fury likes it or not. Stark is fully behind the idea and I would need only to encourage him to start pulling in some of the more talented individuals he has stumbled over in his efforts to privatize world peace.”

Hill blinked. “You got _Stark_ on board?!”

Phil smiled, letting a hint of smugness show. “I did, and if Nick would just stop treating people like _tools_ and show them some respect and compassion, he could have done the same. Tony trusts me because he knows I value him for himself, not simply what he can do for me, and because of that he has put himself completely at my disposal.”

“Not Fury’s,” Clint had to add, making Hill look at him finally. “Tasha, Tony, and I will all do anything _Phil_ asks of us, but we won’t take orders from Fury. He put us into too many situations that nearly got us killed and none of us trust him anymore.”

“Seriously?” Hill asked, her eyes widening as she looked at Phil. “Is _that_ why he’s so pissed at you, sir?”

Phil smiled, amused. “Among other things, yes. He tried to walk into Stark’s house and intimidate us into doing what he wanted us to do, and it didn’t go well for him.”

“I knew that much,” Hill agreed. “He ranted and raved over it for half an hour last night, but he finally admitted he knew better than to fight with you. You’ve been the only one who could keep him in line since he met you, and he hates it because you’re always right.”

“Most of the time,” Phil qualified, amused. “There have been a few occasions I was wrong, but not many.”

There was a knock at the door then and Hill looked at it and then back at Phil and murmured, “Could you please help me out a little, sir? I have to command these people now.”

“I will try to do better in public, Maria,” Phil responded quietly, giving her a wry smile. “I remember how hard it was when Fury and I were promoted past so many agents that had more seniority, and I wouldn’t have acted towards you as I have this morning if you hadn’t pushed my buttons when I was already so annoyed at your boneheaded boyfriend.” He smirked, pulling away from Clint to stand at ease next to him. “Do stop calling me sir, though. You’re technically my boss now, even though I don’t take orders well at all. Go with Phil, or Agent Coulson if I’m in trouble.”

Hill grinned at that, obviously very pleased. “Thanks, Phil.” She turned towards the door, schooling her expression into something slightly cold before she opened it to let in Lewiston and Roy, who were each carrying two boxes. “Bring them in, Agents, thank you.” She turned to Phil, keeping the door open as she asked, “Can I trust you to follow your orders now, Agent Coulson?”

“Of course, ma’am,” Phil said immediately, managing somehow to look cowed. “Please let the Director know what delayed my reporting in. We should be done in an hour.”

“Easy,” Clint agreed. “Agent Lewiston, I’ll need both of those boxes in the bedroom, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, sir,” the older of the two junior agents said quickly, moving towards the door that led to Clint’s bedroom. “Will four boxes be enough?”

“It was when I moved in, but I probably need twice that many now,” Clint answered. “I’ve been living here for years.”

“Keep him out of trouble, Agent Coulson,” Hill said firmly. “You won’t be talking him out of a stint in the brig if he goes wandering around today.”

“He won’t, Assistant Director,” Phil said quickly as Lewiston returned, moving to stand near Roy. “When we’re through here, I’ve got a truck waiting in the parking garage to take Agent Barton and his belongings home.”

“Very good, then,” Hill said, giving Phil a nod and then turning and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Phil turned to Roy and Lewiston, giving them a wry smile. “I believe Clint said we’ll need a few more boxes, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not a bit, sir,” Lewiston said, moving towards the door. “There were only the four in your office, but your secretary said that Pearson in supply would have more.”

Roy put down the boxes he was still holding and moved to follow Lewiston as Phil said, “Thank you, Agents.”

“Yeah, I really appreciate the help, guys,” Clint added. “It’s kind of hard to haul boxes when you’re on crutches.”

Lewiston stopped at the door to give Clint a sudden grin that made him look much younger. “Don’t worry about it, Agent Barton. You’ve more than earned anything we can do to help you out.”

Clint’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as Roy added with a smile, “We volunteered for this, sir. It’s the least we can do. You and your bow have saved both our asses.”

“Not to mention all the others you kept out of harm’s way by putting a shot where it would do the most good, sir,” Lewiston agreed, still grinning. “Some of the senior agents may not like you much, but us grunts think you’re doing just fine.” He nodded respectfully to Phil. “Sir.” He turned and left then, and Roy followed him out without another word.

Phil turned towards Clint, and he smiled at Clint’s shock. “I’ve told you that not everyone sees you like Fury and Hill do, sweetheart. You may have a problem with following orders, but most men with your level of expertise in their fields are the same way.” He smiled wider. “Including me. Taking orders feels _wrong_ on a fundamental level to me.”

“It does to me too, from most people,” Clint agreed, feeling a little lightheaded as he wondered just how many friends he might have at SHIELD that he’d had no idea even knew who he was. “Especially when they’re the wrong orders.”

Phil smiled, moving over to Clint to slide his arms around Clint’s waist as he murmured, “I always tried to avoid giving those.”

“You did good, babe,” Clint agreed, smiling as he swayed closer to Phil and wishing Phil would let him get away with dropping the crutches to free up his hands. “I’ve only had to argue with you a few times.”

“And you were right every time,” Phil pointed out, smiling as he closed the last of the distance between them to kiss Clint slow and deep.

Clint smiled into the kiss, melting against Phil’s solid chest as he put everything out of his mind except for how much he loved Phil.

 

~*~*~

 

Tony’s day had started off on shaky ground, and no matter how hard he tried that morning he just couldn’t seem to fix it.

It had begun with waking up with Phil’s muscular body warm and strong wrapped around him from behind. It had surprised him how good it felt, how _right,_ and he had still been trying to decide if it was Phil in particular or just the fact someone was holding him that he liked so much when he had finally noticed Clint in a nearby chair, wearing only his underwear and looking content as he watched them with a slight smile. Clint had looked good enough to eat sitting there all sprawled out with his boxers doing almost nothing to hide the way his half-hard cock was lying against his thigh, and Tony had felt a surge of arousal that made him inhale sharply as he shifted restlessly. He had finally noticed Phil’s morning wood pressed against his ass then and he had let out an embarrassing whimper as he arched his back to grind against Phil before he could manage to force himself to hold still.

“Sorry,” Tony had whispered when he felt Phil’s arms tighten around him, ashamed that he was practically throwing himself at Phil even though he _knew_ Phil had eyes only for Clint, but Phil hadn’t reacted like Tony truly felt he deserved.

Phil had rubbed one hand soothingly over Tony’s belly, murmuring softly near his ear, “Shh, it’s okay. Sometimes the body reacts despite our best intentions.” Phil had let out a soft little huff against Tony’s neck that might have been a laugh and then added with a hint of amusement, “And I can’t blame you, waking up to see Clint all sprawled out like he is. He’s beautiful.”

Clint had blushed at that, looking shyly pleased, and Tony had nodded wordlessly, unable to find the words to actually say anything. Tony had always been cursed with the tendency to want people he liked and respected, and it had made it very hard for him to ignore how toned Clint’s body was, scarred but sleekly beautiful even to Tony’s discerning eye. Looking at Clint had been almost as distracting as how safe and cared-for Phil had made him feel just then, and the combination of the two had had Tony practically vibrating with the urge to touch and taste and show them just how grateful he was that they cared about him.

“Every time I wake up to him,” Phil had whispered softly after a few moments of silence, “it makes me remember how very lucky I am. He doesn’t let many people get close enough to see the real him instead of the masks he built to protect himself from the world. It's one of the many ways you remind me of him.” Phil had kissed Tony’s shoulder then and rolled away to get off the bed, walking towards the bathroom as he said calmly, “Clint.”

Clint had been up out of his chair and moving after Phil without a word, using only one of his crutches as he quickly crossed the room to follow Phil into the bathroom, leaving Tony alone.

Tony had rolled to his back to stare at the ceiling, wishing desperately that Phil had told _him_ to join them. Sleeping with Clint and Phil was an exercise in frustration for Tony, who would have happily let them do anything they wanted to do to him, but the only alternative was sleeping alone and that hadn’t worked out well at all for him recently. Just the night before Tony had been actually shaking with the effort of fighting to stay in bed when JARVIS spoke up gently, reminding Tony that Phil had invited him to sleep with them. Tony had rolled out of bed and fled to their room across the hall without a word, and the warm welcome they gave him, pulling him into bed between them and holding him close, had made him feel so safe and _protected_ that he had fallen asleep before he knew it. He had never felt like that before when someone held him, but he wanted it so desperately that it was a constant ache when he couldn't be with them, which terrified him if he let himself think about it too much.

Tony had only let himself wish for things he couldn’t have for a few minutes that morning before he rolled off Clint and Phil’s bed to go across the hall and get ready for the day, trying not to think about how alone he felt the moment he left their room. An hour later they were all dressed, Clint and Tony both in jeans and a t-shirt while Phil wore one of the Dolce suits that seemed to be his uniform, and they had met in the kitchen for a breakfast of fresh bagels and lox delivered from Phil’s favorite bagel place, courtesy of JARVIS. They discussed their plans for the day while they ate, and before Tony knew it he was alone in the parking garage watching them drive away in a Stark Tower Suburban.

After standing there for a little while feeling like a fool and kicking himself for always wanting what he couldn’t have, Tony had headed for the tenth floor R&D department to grab a few likely-looking techs to help him unpack his lab equipment, sure that would keep him busy a while. Tony had decided that his new private lab should be in the living area, which wouldn't be completed for over a week yet, but he also planned to use a sprawling lab one level above R&D so that he could have easier access to his techies and the engineers who helped to develop ideas he didn't have time for. It had access to the only elevator that went from the basement parking garage to the lower two floors of the penthouse, so it was convenient enough, plus there were windows that would open wide enough to allow him to enter and leave in the armor without damaging anything.

There had turned out to be just one problem with drafting help to unpack, though. When seven eager-to-please young technical engineers put their minds to impressing their boss, they made frighteningly short work of putting his tools away and getting all of his current projects set up on separate worktables so he could move between them however he felt like.

Tony had JARVIS give all the kids a bonus and a note in their records that he liked their efficiency, then shooed them off to the public elevator to get them out of his hair so he wouldn’t have to listen to them thanking him. He had looked around the room after everyone left, and had swallowed hard as he realized that for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was in a lab, _his_ lab, and there was nothing in his head screaming to be worked on.

The blankness in his usually crowded mind was the perfect topper for a long morning that had left him feeling off-balance and just _wrong_ no matter how hard he fought to pretend he was perfectly fine, and it made him feel very alone and fragile, as if the wrong move might shatter him into a million jagged little pieces.

Tony walked to his ‘office’ desk and dropped into the chair, swiveling the chair aimlessly as he looked around and fidgeted nervously. After a few minutes he opened the desk drawer, his gaze falling on the amber liquid in the three bottles that filled the small space, one of them unopened and the other two both about half full. He just stared at the bottles in silence for a long while before he closed the drawer suddenly, jumping up and making himself move away. He kept walking until he reached the display case for his armors near the private elevator a good fifty feet away, bracing one shaking hand on the clear plas-steel that would hold the Mark VII prototype as soon as he managed to finish it.

“Sir, is there any way I can help?” JARVIS asked gently, sounding so troubled that it made Tony close his eyes and rest his forehead against the plas-steel case.

“Only if you can make me stop craving alcohol every time I’m left alone, JARVIS,” Tony said quietly, hating how weak he felt.

“I cannot change that, sir,” JARVIS said quietly, “but I _can_ remind you that you are not alone. Master Clint is upstairs and I am very sure he would welcome your company.” He paused and then added, “He wishes to know when you might want to get some lunch. It is nearly one and he’s hungry, but he’s willing to wait if you’re busy.”

Tony swallowed hard, considering for only a moment before he asked, “Did you tell him I’m… having trouble?”

“I did not,” JARVIS replied, his voice still quiet and gentle. “He thought of you without any input from me, Tony. He has finished what he intended to do this morning, and he has been at loose ends for a short while, attempting to think of something to distract him from the emptiness of the finished levels of the penthouse. He doesn’t like being alone any more than you do, and you _did_ tell him at breakfast that you would welcome his company today.”

Tony thought about it only a moment before he took a shaky breath and then pushed himself away from the Mark VII case, turning to move towards the nearby elevator. He wasn’t especially hungry but he wanted Clint’s company so badly that he would have agreed to a seven-course dinner to have an excuse to spend a few hours with him. “Tell him I’m on the way up.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said, sounding relieved. He fell silent until Tony was in the elevator and it was in motion, and then asked, “Shall I retrieve take-out menus, or would you prefer to go out?”

“Out,” Tony said quickly, watching the numbers on the digital readout over the door climb rapidly. “If Clint doesn’t mind.”

“Master Clint would be glad to go out,” JARVIS said after a moment. “Shall I summon a car, sir?”

The elevator whooshed open and Tony stepped out of it, glancing around to find Clint was leaning against the bar not too far away, obviously waiting and happy to see him. Just knowing that he wasn’t alone anymore seemed to somehow settle whatever it was in Tony’s mind or body that had been off-kilter all morning, immediately calming the nervous energy he had been vibrating with in the lab.

“I’ll drive, JARVIS,” Tony decided then, feeling more confident. “Let’s take the new Acura out, see how she handles.”

“Very good, sir, I will have it waiting near the elevator in the garage.”

“Awesome. Thanks,” Tony said, smiling warmly at Clint as he stopped by him. “What’re you in the mood for?”

“Somewhere I don’t have to dress up or ask for a translation of anything on the menu,” Clint replied promptly with an impish grin.

“How does burgers sound?” Tony suggested, a little surprised to find himself returning the grin.

“I _love_ a good burger,” Clint said, still grinning and obviously very pleased.

“Then what’re we waiting for?” Tony asked. “I know where we can get the best burgers this side of Texas. Awesome little diner in the Bronx that I stumbled into one night while I was in high school.”

“You got the keys?” Clint asked, pushing away from the bar as he settled his crutches under his arms.

“They’ll be in the car,” Tony replied, smirking a bit.

“Then lead the way,” Clint said, waving towards the elevator.

Tony laughed and turned to walk quickly back towards the elevator, very aware of Clint following at his shoulder like Clint so often followed Phil. They were just friends, sure, but Clint was a friend who cared about _him_ , not who he was or what he could do for him, and Tony thought he could learn to enjoy that for what it was. Just being in the same room with Clint, or with Phil for that matter, made him feel more relaxed and _safe_ in a way Tony hadn’t really felt since Afghanistan. He would have been glad to give them anything they wanted from him, would have fallen to his knees for either or both at the slightest hint they wanted that from him, but the way he felt around them was worth the frustration of knowing sex wasn’t going to happen.

Tony hadn’t had many close friends in his life before he met Clint, really just four that he didn’t build himself, and knowing that he had Clint and Phil in his corner, both ready and willing to help him when he needed it, made his world a brighter place than it had been in a long time.

 

 

~ End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translations, according to multiple sources found through Google:
> 
>  _lutchshi drukk_ = 'best friend'
> 
>  _milaya_ = 'dear', ‘darling’


End file.
